And So it Began
by WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot
Summary: Slash. Kyle/Oliver. Oliver Fish met Kyle Lewis in college. It changed his life forever. Canon. Part Thirteen up now. RATED M from this point on.
1. Part One

**A/N:** One Life to Live slash, and it's canonical! _SQUEE!! _I got the idea for this from a challenge that I did over on FFN. Put my music device on "shuffle" and write out a small drabble/ficlet to a song, using it as inspiration or as the foundation of the story. I wanted to do some stories of Kyle and Oliver in their college years, but I might just write out bits and pieces to whatever song comes on. Plus, this story's helping me overcome my writer's block. The next parts are a little bit longer than this one.

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**Part One: **

_**McFearless**_

**Kings of Leon**

Wade Addington cracked the huge wooden paddle into his hand, the Greek letters _Kappa_, _Alpha_, and _Delta_ burned into the handle. The president of the fraternity was still in his black tie and shirt; his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he had the most frightening grin plastered on his face. The other brothers, some who were officers with Addington, surrounded him.

Oliver Fish remained perfectly still on his knees, crammed shoulder-to-shoulder with the other pledges. He barely registered the smaller, dark-haired guy next to him. Fish dared not move, blink, or even breathe funny; he had heard from the other pledges that the upperclassmen were probably going to do a little harmless hazing. Mostly talk, but nothing else. They weren't going to risk having their charter pulled again during the probationary period.

_Surely they wouldn't, right?_

Oliver hoped desperately that they didn't see or hear him gulp.

"Listen up, _bitches_!" Wade bellowed, smacking the paddle in his palm. "Don't think for one damn minute we're going to go easy on you. For the next four years, we own you pathetic little shits, and if you fail to live up to our standards, we will end you!"

Oliver did nothing. When the guy next to him snorted, barely audibly, Addington whipped around so quickly and jutted himself toward the two boys so violently that Fish almost fell back.

"_WHICH ONE OF YOU LITTLE BUTT-LICKERS LAUGHED_?"

He opened his mouth to say, "No one laughed, sir!" but the guy next to him inexplicably spoke up.

"I don't know about you, but threatening us with bodily harm while you're all on probation doesn't really seem like the most brilliant move. _Sir_."

"Lewis? This is your first night with us, and you're already giving us shit?" Addington looked menacingly at the other guy, who was now, inexplicably, smirking. Oliver prayed this idiot didn't just earn himself a beating from the entire fraternity. If there was going to be a fight, Oliver would feel compelled to step in and stop it, even if he didn't know him.

That's who he was. He had too much cop in him. He knew what was right and what was wrong. And starting a fight over some stupid, smart remark was definitely wrong.

Lewis shrugged. "No attitude. Just wanted to be honest with my new brothers. Point out some simple truths… _buddy_."

Oliver was completely taken aback. This Lewis character — there was nothing but casual amusement in his voice. He could practically hear him smirking. As if he didn't care whether he got into it with the president, if not the entire house.

Addington reared his arm back, the paddle high above his head. Oliver readied himself, waiting for the downward arch, preparing himself to intervene.

The officer jabbed the top of the paddle into Lewis' chest. "You've got bathroom duty. Friday morning through Monday. For a full month."

Oliver let out a little breath of relief. _Bathroom duty? That's not so bad._

"Our first hall party's this Thursday. And we're going to leave all sorts of nice… surprises for you. _Buddy_."

Lewis said nothing. Addington turned back around and started barking more orders and more chores to the pledge class. Oliver nodded, barely paying any attention to any of it. A few times he chanced a glance over at the shorter boy. Only once did he catch Lewis' eye. And there was a moment, so brief Oliver thought he imagined it—

But Oliver could have sworn he winked at him.


	2. Part Two

**A/N:** I'm making up names of places at Llanview U because I've never seen them called anything on the show before (I've been watching off and on for almost two decades now). Oh, and I've made some changes from the original posting on Kishmet; mostly the change is what Oliver chooses for food, since Kyle revealed he ate salad with "thousand island on the side" every day in college. And he never forgot it. _Awww_!

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**Part Two**

_**Thirty-Three**_

**Smashing Pumpkins**

Oliver Fish grabbed a turkey sandwich, light on the mayo, and finished assembling his salad. He reached for the thousand island dressing and dumped a spoonful on the side of his plate. It was what he chose for his lunch every day in the sterile LU student cafeteria, so the routine was practically automatic. This was a good thing, as his attention was wholly focused on Kyle Lewis, resident smartass of Dolby Hall and _Kappa Alpha Delta_. Why he was spending so much time with a guy who kept getting into trouble with the brothers was beyond him. Maybe he thought he needed to look out for him or something.

"You know, I don't understand why you have to keep shooting your mouth off."

"Well, _Mother_," Kyle replied sarcastically, grabbing a piece of fried chicken with some tongs. "I have a low tolerance for bullshit."

"Yeah, but it gets you in trouble. And do you really have to cop an attitude with me? I'm trying to help you."

"Jeeze, you need to relax." Kyle took two rolls. Thoroughly exasperated at Oliver's henpecking, he took a seat at a table close to a pair of large windows. "I haven't gotten my ass kicked."

"Yet."

"And if I do push things, I've got you backing me up, right?"

Oliver shot him a flat look. "Before or after you run away from the fight so I can take your hits?" To his chagrin, Lewis merely grinned and tore into his bread.

Fish shook his head as he sat across from his… floormate? Fraternity brother? Friend? Sure they were in KA∆ together and their freshman class schedules were practically the same. They hung out together. A lot. Kyle seemed to gravitate to him. Oliver reckoned it was because he could count on getting some kind of reaction. Lewis acted like an idiot. He said stupid and sarcastic things all the time. Oliver would react with a laugh, an eyeroll, or even a polite, if not slightly snarky, remark. But instead of repelling Oliver, he found Kyle's attention this crazy mix that was both annoying and oddly amusing.

Kyle was the first to break the silence. "Fine. You want to know why I don't shut up? Even around our house?"

"By all means, enlighten me," Oliver replied, a tinge of a sardonic tone in his voice.

Lewis put the roll down on his plate and motioned with his finger for Oliver to lean forward.

"I like our brothers. I do. But that doesn't mean I agree with some of the things they say. Especially to us pledges."

Oliver furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"I don't like being called things like 'bitch' or… or 'little girls,' or 'gay' or anything like that." Kyle leaned back and shrugged nonchalantly. "It's stupid and — I don't know. Offensive."

Oliver nodded, but said nothing. He agreed that it was over-the-top, but he'd heard language like that all his life, from his coaches to his dad's colleagues. It always bothered him, but he couldn't do anything to change the way people spoke about things.

He always felt something weird whenever he heard the word "gay". Not that he could say why, but he noticed his own strange reactions to it. He'd hear it at his little league games, when others used that word as an insult. In high school, his friends said it flippantly. "Gay" was always a bad thing; it was something you didn't want to be. It only made things worse when Oliver realized he wasn't like the other guys at school. Like when he caught himself staring more at the quarterback than the quarterback's hot cheerleader girlfriend, the one all the guys wanted.

Oliver thought he knew what to make of it, what it all meant... but he convinced himself he didn't and that everything was okay. But he still couldn't put it out of his mind. It didn't help that he took Sue Deal to prom. She was smart, but quiet and plain. As he had guessed, she had no expectations for them when the evening ended.

"So can you blame me if I give them some shit every now and then?"

"I guess not," Oliver replied, shifting uneasily in his seat. "It bugs me too."

"Yeah, but I don't see you speaking up."

Oliver stabbed at his barely-eaten dinner. "What difference would it make? You're not going to change the way anyone acts if you're being a jerk to them."

Again, Kyle shrugged. "If they're going to be a jerk to me, I can be a jerk right back. Maybe it's you who needs to grow a backbone, Oliver."

Fish spent the rest of the meal in sullen silence, registering the tiniest irregular thud of his heart when he realized that this was the first time Kyle had used his first name.


	3. Part Three

**A/N: ** Thank you so much for reading. I really appreciate the feedback!

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**Part Three**

_**The Hazards of Love 4**_

**The Decemberists**

"I don't know what in the world you did," Oliver said as his fingers flew across the keyboard, "but you wrecked your laptop pretty good."

Kyle Lewis remained unperturbed. He lay on his bed and tossed a foam ball in the air. "What does that mean, Geek Squad? Can you fix it or not?"

Oliver stifled a smile. He shot his friend a glare from the desk. "I can fix it, but you know I don't like it when you call me names." Kyle looked at him apologetically.

"Sorry."

Fish snorted and returned to the device. This was the fifth time in almost three months that Kyle had begged for his help with his computer. It kept freezing on screens, shutting down and crashing. But what disturbed him the most about these trips to Kyle's dorm room was that he didn't mind coming here, as messy and as cluttered as it was, to help him fix the thing every time it malfunctioned. Kyle would lay casually on his bed, either reading or writing or talking to Oliver. He also invented new nicknames for Oliver. Inwardly, he chuckled at whatever Kyle threw at him.

The only problem was that it made the reaction each time Kyle used his first name in that raspy voice of his quite obvious. And scary.

Kyle tossed the foam ball at his head. Oliver couldn't duck in time.

"Hey!"

"I was wondering if you were going to the house's date party."

Oliver wiped his face and leaned back in the chair. "What? You mean Casino Night?" He shook his head. "I haven't found a date for it, have I?"

Kyle propped himself on his elbows, the bottom of his shirt rising slightly above the belt of his shorts. Oliver looked over, and quickly turned his eyes away when he saw the patch of fair skin. Kyle's torso. He could see the trail of hair leading down his stomach, right into his shorts, to his—

"You don't need a date to go."

Oliver struggled to keep his eyes focused on Kyle's face, rather than that mysterious bit of chest that had suddenly revealed itself to him, making his stomach feel uneasy and sending a shiver through his body. "W-well, it's a date party, isn't it? Not having a date sort of defeats the purpose."

Kyle grunted and flopped back down on the bed, an action that caused his shirt to rise up even more. "Eh. They won't care."

"They won't?" Oliver cocked his eyebrow; he couldn't keep himself from sounding dubious.

Kyle flapped his hand at him. "They want the whole house there, you know. For solidarity and brotherhood-ship, blah-blah-blah…"

"Yeah, but if I don't have a date—"

"I don't either." To Oliver's relief, Kyle shot upright on his bed, his shirt falling down to cover himself properly. "We could just go together. You and me."

Blinking rapidly, nearly losing his breath for a moment when he thought Kyle had just asked him out, Oliver realized he meant go together as friends. And then his brain caught on to the other implication of the statement. "Wait. You don't have a date?"

"No, I don't."

"_You_? You don't have a date?"

"There's an echo in here."

This time, Oliver laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"You're, like... well… you're one of the hottest guys here."

If Oliver was shocked at the way he phrased this simple truth, Kyle was just as surprised. His friend blushed. "What?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly unsure. Oliver quickly tried to recover while he felt something heavy grip his insides.

"Wh-what I mean is that I hear girls talking about you, and you get dates left and right to the sororities' parties. But you didn't get a date for Casino Night?"

Kyle gave his head a quick shake. "Um, no. I'm not really interested in any girls." His eyes shifted over and met his friend's. "Not ones that I can take to the function at least."

Oliver sensed a weight lift off him. Inexplicable and unfamiliar, he ignored the sensation. "Yeah, well… I guess that makes the two of us for now." A series of three beeps interrupted him and he turned his attention back to Kyle's screen. He cracked his knuckles, hoping the unsettling atmosphere that fell across the room following their conversation would dissipate.

"Did you fix it?" Kyle asked, standing up and leaning over Oliver's shoulder to stare at the computer screen. Fish tried valiantly to ignore the smell of soap and spice that seemed to roll off of his friend's body, and instead pointed out what he did to repair the laptop.

"… So, the Geek Squad saved the day."

Kyle lowered his head and laughed. "Yeah. The Geek Squad. Thanks, Oliver."

"Anytime."

Another tone, this one the alert for an instant message, piped through the tinny speakers of the machine. Instinctively responding to the prompt from the device, Oliver ran his finger over the mousepad, all but ignoring the swearing from Kyle.

It took his brain a few moments to register what his eyes saw, but he finally absorbed it, the image and its implications. On screen was an instant messaging window with a picture of a boy, about their age or slightly older, smiling coyly at the camera. And typed out next to it was a message:

"_Ky? R U there? Want 2 meet up later?"_

"'_SexyBoi2000_'?" Oliver scooted his chair away from the desk and stared at Kyle, who was desperately typing out a quick goodbye message to his friend and shut the computer down. "Who is this?" It didn't come out as a question, more like a statement, a command. Seeing the message and the picture confused Oliver. It made him roil inside like he had been sucker-punched in the guts.

"Shit!" Kyle stood up, glaring at the computer as if it had severely offended him. "That was just a friend of mine."

"A friend?" Oliver spoke slowly. "A friend who you're going to meet up with later?"

"Yeah. Well, h-he's just… I haven't actually met him face-to-face. Yet. He's someone I met online, and he seemed to be going through the same things I'm going through."

Oliver pushed himself out of the chair. He stared at Kyle, his eyes narrowed. "What exactly are you going through?"

"Are you accusing me of something?"

"Does it sound like I'm accusing you of anything?"

Kyle eyed him with a steely gaze, his hands on his hips, his temper growing. "Yeah, actually. It does."

Fish didn't know where his own anger was coming from. This was crazy. It was everything this evening: hanging out with Kyle in his dorm room, chatting effortlessly, and bringing up that stupid date party. His own brain betrayed him as he noticed things about Kyle, his body, and the ways his eyes were drawn to him.

And then that stupid IM. From that stupid _SexyBoi2000!_ Kyle's friend—

Oliver grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulders.

"Where are you going?"

"I've gotta get some air, Kyle."

"Wait! Oliver, do you want to talk?"

Oliver spun around. "Talk about what, exactly? Don't you have to meet up with your friend who knows you better than anyone else?" He spat out the words, not caring about the hurt, confused look on Kyle's face. Reaching for the door, Oliver flung it open. He could hear a heavy inhalation of breath behind him.

"Oliver, if you're—"

"If I'm _what_?" He glowered fiercely at Kyle, whose hands flew up.

"Never mind," he said softly. "I'll catch you later, man."

Oliver stormed down their hallway and was almost to his room when he leaned against the doorframe. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. The feeling that had been growing in Kyle's room, unknown and unwanted, finally became more and more defined.

Jealousy. And it was aimed toward Kyle's online friend.


	4. Part Four

**A/N:** Still only PG-13 for now. I hope this chapter does not offend anyone; I tried to incorporate some of the things Oliver's parents said during his coming out episodes and I think, for Oliver in this moment, this is where his mind would be.

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**Part Four**

_**Teen Age Riot**_

**Sonic Youth**

Oliver hadn't hung out with Kyle Lewis in three weeks.

Well, in actuality, it had been three weeks, four days, eight hours, and fourteen… no, fifteen minutes.

Not that he was counting. He wasn't. Instead of counting, Oliver went to his classes, did his homework, and performed his duties as a KA∆ pledge. He didn't go to their date function, and as far as he knew, Kyle didn't either. He thought he did a good job ignoring Kyle; he certainly didn't pay any attention to the girls and guys that he talked to in between and during classes, or to the times he spent at the frat house with the older brothers, helping them clean the place for the weekends whenever parents would visit, and working with them on fundraising activities….

Kyle didn't seem to pay any attention to him. At all. There was no attempt by him to explain who his online friend was or why Kyle needed an online friend in the first place. And whatever the mysterious "something" was that Kyle was going through — Oliver didn't know. Although honestly, it wasn't any of his business.

Unfortunately, the longer he stayed away from Kyle, the more he found himself thinking about him. He invaded his dreams at night; Oliver found himself remembering the briefest glimpse of torso... those dark eyes big and round and crackling with humor... the smirk he casually tossed out after he said something sarcastic toward the older brothers. Even more surprising, Oliver remembered the enthusiasm that shone in his face when he talked about Zoology and Biology and going pre-Med.

Finally, three weeks, four days, eight hours, and fourteen… no, fifteen minutes following the evening that he had worked on Kyle's computer, Oliver was in his dorm bed, tossing and turning again. He bolted upright, inhaled deeply two times, and realized that getting any sleep tonight was in vain. He threw on an old fleece sweater, not bothering to change out of his wind pants and socks. With little effort, he was able to slide his feet quietly into a pair of Birkenstocks. Grabbing the keys, Oliver made sure to unlatch the door as noiselessly as possible. There was an audible click and he heard Jason, his roommate, snore. It quickly petered out as he rolled over onto his side. With no other interruptions, he snuck into the hallway and crept toward the elevator.

Once outside, Oliver made his way out to a spot in the courtyard in front of the dormitory with long wooden benches and tables, waving occasionally to packs of students who were studying late or heading for a night out at a bar or a club. The closer he got to one of the tables, he saw it occupied by a lone figure, drinking from something that looked too small to be a bottle and too flat to be a can.

He approached the figure — and his heart leapt up into his throat.

"Kyle?" It came out less a question and more a statement.

Kyle Lewis looked up in mid-sip. "Well, _how_-dy stranger!" He patted the spot next to him loudly. "Take a seat if you want. Oh, and here," he said, offering Oliver the small drinking container. "Here y' go! Drinks're on me."

There was no mistaking the small slur in his voice, or the pungent whiff of whiskey on his breath. Kyle wasn't drunk, but he was certainly getting there.

Oliver took the flask and gave it a sniff. He surprised himself by taking a small sip from the bottle. "Partying, huh?"

Kyle shrugged and stretched his body out, folding his arms in front of his chest. "Had a big test today."

"Did you do all right?"

"Did fine. At the top of the class, you know. Even an honors student."

Oliver couldn't stop smiling. Kyle was buzzed, but he was celebrating. He seemed to be really happy. "Well, here's to hoping you aced it." He raised the flask between them.

After retrieving the flask back to take another drink, Kyle turned his head and squinted at him. "You've been avoiding me, haven't you?"

"N-no," Oliver stammered, although he felt his face warm considerably. From the alcohol or from Kyle's observation he didn't know. "What makes you think I'm—?"

"You don't have to lie. I can tell when someone's ignoring me. That's fine, if you needed space. I wasn't going to force you to hang out."

Oliver gulped. He reached for the flask again, which Kyle handed over without argument. "I guess… well, I didn't know if I should say—"

He felt a jolt shoot through him when Kyle slapped his knee. Not hard, but the pressure of the hand through the fabric gave Oliver the most unusual sensation. Little darts coursed through his legs, and his stomach flipped, somersaulting unexpectedly at the connection.

"Look, I've been thinking that I should talk to someone here. I'll tell you the truth if you want to hear it. And I want to tell you because I think you're a good guy, Oliver. I don't want you to make this a thing and tell the house or the whole school." Kyle turned and looked at him, his dark eyes slightly glossy from drinking but serious nonetheless. Watching him, meeting his earnest expression — Oliver couldn't deny giving Kyle his attention. That he was extremely curious about it himself was only a bonus.

Kyle sucked in a long, deep breath and began speaking slowly and deliberately. "So, that guy who was online when you came to fix my computer a few weeks ago. You remember him, right?"

Oliver shrugged, hopeful that he didn't give anything away. "Yeah, I think so. Er... vaguely."

"Well," Kyle continued, "I've never met him personally but I sort of chat with him every once in a while. Because he and I are... well, we're talking about things that I really can't tell anyone else. And he sort of gets it." There was a pause as he chewed on his bottom lip.

"That's fine if you're friends with him." Oliver tried keeping his voice normal, but his mouth felt dried out, like it was filled with cotton balls. "You know, if it's too difficult for you to talk—"

Kyle held up his hand. Oliver shut his mouth.

"It really doesn't get easier trying to say it. Everyone closest to me already knows, but still..." Kyle shifted his eyes toward him. "I want you to know. It could just be the Jack Daniels talking, but I have this feeling in my guts that, if I told you about me, who I really am, you'd be okay with it."

He shook his head, very slowly. "I'm not sure I understand—"

"Oliver, I'm gay."

Nothing else was said. The announcement hung in the air between them. At first, they were only words and they didn't quite sink into Oliver's brain. But as the seconds ticked by, with each blink and breath, he slowly absorbed their meaning.

"Wh-wh-_what_?"

"Okay," Kyle drawled. "I'll try this again." He squared his shoulders around and stared at Oliver dead-on. "I – am – _gay_."

It finally clicked in Oliver's head. He shot off the bench and walked a few paces.

"Gay?"

Kyle nodded as if it was the most obvious thing anyone had ever said. "Yeah. Gay."

"B-but, you're… you don't look—" Oliver flapped his arms at Kyle uselessly. His friend stood up and strode toward him, looking increasingly angry.

"I don't look _what_?"

"You don't look gay! You don't sound gay, you don't — there's nothing gay about you!"

Incredibly, Kyle laughed. "Well, except for one little detail."

"What?"

"I like guys!"

Oliver spun around, his face in his hands. This explained it though. Everything he had been feeling, sensing, thinking about since the year began, the fact that Kyle was gay made it all clear for him.

Lewis must have done something to him. Or he must've caught it from him; knowing Kyle Lewis was becoming more and more confusing.

"All this time that you and I were around each other, and you've been gay? This whole time?"

Kyle shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled toward him. "Yeah, that's pretty much how it works. Hell, I've always been like this."

Oliver shook his head rapidly. "No, no, no. Being gay is a choice."

"It's not." Kyle was now a foot away from him. His eyes never wavered from Oliver's face. "This is who I am. All I wanted was to find one person here who I could be honest with." Kyle bowed his head, gesturing toward him. "And I picked you."

Oliver could feel his chin tremble, his entire body quake. "You really shouldn't have."

Another pause filled the space between them. After a moment, Kyle grunted and pivoted on his ankles. "Whatever," he replied with a wave. Pulling his flask back out, Kyle took another swig and handed it out to Oliver. He declined.

"What? You afraid of gay cooties?"

Oliver scoffed. "I'm not afraid of you or anything. I think you're wrong though."

With another dismissive shake of his head, Kyle took a big swig from the bottle and sealed it back up. "I'm going back up to my room." He started toward the dormitory, halting right before he reached the path that led back to the door. He twisted around and stared at Oliver.

"Like I said, I thought you were a good guy. If you still want to hang out with me, great. If not—" He flashed a lopsided grin, raised his shoulders high, and turned around slowly. "I'll see you around, Fish."

Oliver watched him enter the building. Running his hands through his hair, he collapsed on the nearest bench. Gay — Kyle Lewis was _gay_. Everything he had ever learned from his parents, his friends, his church was that homosexuality was a sin. And therefore, it was wrong.

But if Kyle Lewis was a sinner, if he was a degenerate and a pervert, then what the hell did that make him?

Oliver constantly made excuses to himself for the stray thoughts that flittered through his own mind, the things that occupied him during those moments in between consciousness and sleep. He knew those things were wrong, as wrong as Kyle's lifestyle was. He simply never dwelled on it.

But Kyle's revelation changed everything. He wanted to blame Kyle for the things he was feeling so acutely now, but blame was futile. He knew he had been experiencing this... _whatever it was_ for a while, for far longer than he had known Kyle.

Meeting Kyle, getting to know Kyle... Oliver could feel something roar inside of him, something struggling to escape, to see the light of day. To breathe.

He chided himself. No. No matter what, whatever it was, it was a sin. It was nasty. It was against everything his parents and his church had taught him. And Oliver was resolved not to lose another night of sleep over it.

********


	5. Part Five

**A/N: **Overall computer stupidness (and the lack of MS Word) prevented me updating this on FFN, but it seems like the bugs have been worked out. Please enjoy--and know that I'll be upping this rating by Part Ten! And for any readers unfamiliar with the storyline on OLTL--Oliver Fish was closeted until very recently, because his parents would disapprove for the reasons stated herein. This chapter was inspired by his coming out eps which aired in September.

Rated PG-13 (for now) for language and mature themes.

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**Part Five**

_**High and Dry**_

**Radiohead**

"So, you knew when you were younger? Like, when you were a kid?"

Kyle Lewis rolled his eyes as he squeezed through a group of freshmen lingering in the hallway of the Nixon Building, where LU's science department was located. "You know, you can ask me the same question fifty times, and the answer won't change, Fish. Yes, I knew when I was a kid. And yes," he said, shooting the other boy a sharp glance, "I didn't tell anyone else until I was older. But they already knew."

Oliver nodded. A couple of weeks had passed since Kyle confided to him that he was gay. After a day of awkwardness and avoidance, Oliver approached him and reopened the lines of communication. From that point on, their conversations meandered inevitably to Kyle's sexual orientation. It was Oliver, however, who consistently steered them toward that topic.

"Okay," he replied, keeping his voice as low as possible. "But how did you know you were gay if you've never… _you know_…"

"What? 'If I never…' played poker? Trivial Pursuit?"

"Kyle, you know what I mean."

They stopped walking and stood nearby the classroom for their freshman Zoology seminar. Kyle jabbed his finger into Oliver's chest. "When did you first start noticing girls?"

The question caught Oliver off guard. He quickly thought of the most logical answer to the inquiry – although thinking about it made him realize he had noticed girls, he just hadn't _noticed_ girls, and not the way boys should. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You were like, what? 12? 13? Maybe 14?" Kyle smiled. "Well, that's when it started happening for me. But with boys."

"Just like that?" Oliver snapped his fingers.

"Not just like that. There was this feeling, even when I was 7, that I was different from the other kids. I couldn't define it then or anything, but the older I got, I started to piece it together. And it started out with small things; I didn't want to be Justin Timberlake, I wanted to date him. I saw pretty girls, even beautiful girls, but they did nothing for me. However, if I saw a _really_ hot guy, all I could think about was, you know…"

Oliver swallowed; he felt something catch in his throat. "I know what?"

Kyle stared at him incredulously. He leaned in and winked. "I wanted to do stuff with him. Or ask him out. Whatever."

A shudder passed through him at his friend's confession; hearing it described in such stark, frank terms struck Oliver with its familiarity. "But you haven't been with anyone yet."

Kyle chuckled. "Do you have to have sex with a girl to know that you're straight?"

"I-I guess not."

"Well, there you go. I've kissed and made out. Have I gone all the way?"

Oliver felt his stomach curdle as an unwanted image of Kyle with another man floated into his head.

"I haven't," Kyle continued. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to some day. I just haven't found the right guy."

Oliver shut his eyes and shook his head. "But… but what if you did meet a girl, and you found yourself attracted to her and… and…."

Kyle's face darkened. He spoke low enough so only they could hear their conversation, but his whispered voice took on a harsher, angrier tone. "Why are you so fixated on this?"

"I'm not fixated."

"Yeah, you are." Kyle was standing very close to him. Despite the anger in his tone Oliver could smell his soap, possibly his shampoo, and the spicy scent of his aftershave. He tried to push away the thoughts that the scents seemed to bring with them, focusing instead on their ensuing argument.

"You've been asking me about it for the past two weeks. You've talked about it more than I have. And you seem obsessed with thinking that this is a choice. That I can decide to be something one day and then be something else on another."

"But you can, Kyle."

"No, I can't! You need to understand that. Until you do, don't talk to me." He turned to go into the lecture hall.

"Hey. Kyle, don't—"

He looked back at him. "Fish, I've got better things to do with my time than to keep explaining this to you." He waved resignedly at Oliver. "I'll catch you later man."

Oliver let the stream of students dissipate, Kyle at the front of the queue. One minute before the lectures began, he slipped into the hall and found a seat in the back. He was impressed he was able to take fairly good notes, even while he kept staring at the back of Kyle's head.

**

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**

If anyone asked Oliver Fish whether alcohol helped his situation, Oliver would grunt and attempt to hold his thumb up. However, as he was already on his fifth shot of Jack Daniels, followed by a beer chaser, holding up his thumb was a bit of a struggle.

"Dude," Jason Greenley, his roommate, said, "you going to be all right?" He was putting on a jacket and heading out for a hall party at his own fraternity.

Oliver snorted and managed to grin. " 'M fine, dude. 'M tryin' to relax, 's'all."

Jason shot him a dubious expression. "Okay. Well, just in case." He brought over the metal wastebasket, which was lined with a plastic bag. "This is here, if you can't make it to the toilet."

"A-ok, buddy! Gotcha!" He pointed his fingers like a gun at Jason and made a cocking sound with his mouth. Jason merely shook his head.

"Don't wait up." With a wave, his roommate walked out and left him sitting at his computer, the screensaver flicking through pictures of vacations with his mother and father, George and Barbara Fish.

Oliver took another drink. He loved his parents. They were good people, church-going and generous. All throughout his life, he watched as his parents gave their time and money to help the less fortunate, practically giving the clothes off their backs to the homeless, to feed those families who couldn't feed themselves.

But when he started entering his teenage years, he noticed his parents' reactions to certain things. The little looks they gave each other when the newspaper announced a marriage between men and women who were from different races. Teenaged girls who became mothers far too early. Anything that upset the carefully structured community where he had grown up and gone to church and went to school was frowned upon.

The worst sin, though, was homosexuality. When a teenager came out, their church would encourage their family to go to their sermons and bring the child to the church's group, to help them find the path toward righteousness. The looks his parents had when they saw someone who was openly gay — he couldn't face that. He couldn't face his parents thinking he was some freak who didn't deserve their love.

They were his mom and dad. They showed up for his little league games. They taught him to help others, to be a good man and a good citizen. No one could deny that his mother was one of the most gentle-hearted people on the planet, a schoolteacher and a model of the community. And, of course, he admired the hell out of his father. A cop. A good one at that. The man devoted his life to public service, and all Oliver had ever wanted was to be a cop just like him. He loved them a lot.

But he also couldn't deny these other feelings, things that contradicted everything he had ever been taught was good and right. If he acted on them, all he would see would be his parents' eyes, hardened and cold and filled with… nothing.

He'd lose them forever.

And yet, here he was, drinking alone and thinking about his parents, and finally managing to take a break from Kyle. Except that Kyle seemed to be mixed and mingled with everything else in his head. Everything seemed to go back to his friend and whatever it was he was feeling toward him.

Oliver downed another shot and checked the clock. 11:15 p.m. Stretching out, he could feel his head spin. He needed air, and quick. Maybe he could find a nice spot outside to vomit if necessary. He stumbled out the door, haphazardly checking his pocket to make sure he had his keys. He had just shut his door when he noticed a figure down the hall, getting ready to enter his own room. Oliver looked up and met Kyle Lewis' eyes.

"You comin' or goin'?"

"I'm in for the night, Fish." Kyle's eyes scanned him from head to toe. "You look like you've had a few too many."

Oliver stumbled a little as he walked toward him. He used the wall outside of Kyle's room for support. "Didja meet anyone?" he asked, his words slurring together.

Kyle snorted. "Man, you don't miss a beat, do you? I'm turning in. See you later."

Despite his drunken state, Oliver slapped his hand on the door. He slid into the room just behind Kyle, who simply rolled his eyes.

"Come in. Not like you were invited or anything."

Oliver let the door shut behind him, clumsily locking it. "Rooney's gone?"

"Well, for the night," Kyle replied dispassionately. "Benefit of having a roommate being attached to the hip to his older, apartment-renting girlfriend." He shed his jacket off and tossed his keys onto his desk. "So spill it, Fish. What do you want?"

Oliver took a breath before he spoke again. "Didja go out and meet your friend? Y' aren't carrying any books, so I don't think you were studying."

"It's none of your business where I was. You haven't spoken to me in a week."

"I was tryin' to give you some space." He wobbled a bit, stumbling against the closet next to the door.

"Whatever. You didn't want anything to do with me after I called you out. And I wouldn't be surprised if you were here to try to convince me to date girls."

Oliver lowered his head, shaking it slowly. "No. I'm not."

Kyle stormed toward the door. "Go back to your room." He started to unlatch the locks. "When you're ready to start talking to me like I'm a normal person, then you can come back and we can hang out again."

"No. I want to talk to you." Oliver reached out, his hand stopping Kyle's. He shocked himself, his voice coming out more clearly and smoothly than before, despite his intoxication. For the second time that night, he met Kyle's eyes, determined to make his friend see reason.

But before he could say anything, Oliver's eyes traveled down Kyle's face and rested on his lips.

"Damn. You reek, Fish. What've you been drinking?"

"A little Jack Daniels. Some beer. Nothing much." Oliver realized his hand was still on Kyle's.

"You're stopping me from making you go back to your room?"

Oliver nodded weakly. "I don't want to go back." Somewhere in the middle of his thoughts, as he stared intently at Kyle Lewis' lips, Oliver forgot all the reasons for being in here. He knew he wanted to see Kyle and maybe try to convince him he wasn't gay.

"Oliver, look—"

But those lips. Nothing else mattered except those lips.

"Please don't talk," Oliver muttered. "Don't talk. Don't say anything." Before he knew it, he was bringing his other hand around the back of Kyle's head. The gap between them narrowed—

And suddenly, there was nothing between them, only the feeling of his mouth on Kyle's, kissing him, the fine fuzz of nighttime stubble rubbing against his face. Alcohol or not, it was good. The contact made him tingle, and the sensation spread through his body and pooled in his chest. Oliver felt warm, wanted. He chanced tilting his head to the right, and opening his mouth, needing to explore more, push further—

There was a muffled sound of surprise, a gasp that didn't come from him, and then two hands pushing on his chest, breaking them apart.

"What're you doing?"

Oliver grasped Kyle again, touching his forehead with his own. He breathed in hard and fast, but he was aware enough to know he needed to make Kyle understand. "Please don't say anything. I was just…"

"Just _what_?" Kyle said, glaring at him. "Are you mocking me? Is this some kind of joke?"

"What? N-no. I don't think anything's funny."

Kyle tore himself away from the clinch. "So, what is it? Are you working through something yourself?"

Even though he knew that was the reason, he couldn't bring himself to admit it. Not yet, at least. He cast his eyes down to the floor, unable to look at Kyle. "I… I don't know what I'm doing."

"Shit." There was silence for a few moments, until Oliver heard the door unlocking and the squeak from the rusty hinges as it opened.

"You need to leave, Fish. Now."

Oliver shuffled slowly toward the hallway. He paused for a moment and turned to face his friend. "Kyle—"

"I'll see you tomorrow."

The sharp stare from Kyle managed to quiet Oliver. With a meek nod, he walked back to his room. Only when he got his keys out and opened the door did he hear Kyle's shut in the distance.


	6. Part Six

**

* * *

Part Six**

_**Ocean of Noise**_

**The Arcade Fire**

"Lewis, Fish — shift's over!"

Wade Addington and Darrell Thomas barreled up to the two pledges. They were there to relieve them from their shift of watching the house's Christmas tree. The entire Greek system, as well as the other clubs at LU, participated in the huge, campus-wide holiday celebration. The pledges were all required to partner up and watch the tree for a couple of hours in the evening, both to finish decorating it and to prevent possible vandalism.

Despite the incident in the dorm room a few days ago, Oliver signed up to do his shift with Kyle. Neither said anything about the kiss; instead, all talk veered from classes to plans for the holiday to the last game of the season with their biggest rivals, the Pine Valley Raiders.

Oliver was busy rubbing his hands together, breathing into to them to stay warm. Kyle had reclined fully in his small chair, his arms around himself trying to generate some body heat. He saw the fraternity brothers approach and he jumped up first. "Cool. Thanks a lot," he replied in mid-shiver. He tapped his forehead and gave the older guys a small salute. "Have fun. Fish, are you heading back?"

"Yeah." Oliver waved at Addington and Thomas and jogged to meet up with Kyle.

They walked back in silence, mostly. Kyle kept humming something under his breath, a song that sounded vaguely familiar to Oliver. Oliver, however, was barely paying attention. With each step and every note, he found himself preoccupied with the memory of that kiss. This wasn't unusual for Oliver. Of all his thoughts throughout the day, he estimated that about eighty to ninety percent of them concerned that kiss.

They stood side by side in the notoriously slow dormitory elevator, quiet for the first five floors. When they reached the sixth floor, Oliver turned to Kyle.

"I'm really sorry about what happened."

Kyle didn't reply immediately. After a beat, he scratched his nose, keeping his eyes locked on the elevator's doors. "Don't worry about it, Fish."

"I don't know why I did what I did. I was drunk, and I wanted to talk to you about…. _that_," he said, waving his hands to emphasize his point, "and I just got, I don't know. Confused."

Kyle chortled. "Apparently."

"But, since it's just the two of us in here, all I want to say is I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

Kyle turned and smiled at Oliver; it was a gentle, warm smile. "It's okay. Seriously. No hard feelings."

The elevator door slid open. Oliver stayed back, allowing Kyle to enter his dorm first. He stopped just short of coming in.

"You've got something else to say, Fish?"

"Y-yeah," he said, coughing to clear his throat. He looked around the room; Kyle's roommate was not there. Chances were he wasn't going to be in for the rest of the evening. That thought made Oliver suddenly, and intensely, nervous.

He peered down the hallway. The hall was filled with the sounds of voices and music blasting, but there were no other students nearby. Oliver shut the door, feeling the necessity for discretion. Turning back to his friend, he collected his thoughts.

"Did I tell you about my parents?"

Kyle creased his brow. "Only that your mom's a schoolteacher, your dad's a cop, and you wanted to be a cop too, just like him."

Oliver chuckled, but it felt forced and sad. He undid his coat and took off his scarf, laying both at the foot of Kyle's bed. Gingerly, he sat down beside his things, watching as Kyle opened his small refrigerator. There was a tinny clink of glass as Oliver thought about what he wanted to say.

"Well, they've got very strict ideas about your lifestyle."

Kyle nodded. "I see. But I need to make a correction." He handed Oliver an open beer bottle.

"Go on." Oliver said in mid-sip.

"It's not a lifestyle. I was born gay." Kyle drank from his own bottle and sat in the chair at his desk. "You have to understand and accept that."

Oliver pulled in his lips. "You know the church that my parents go to, they have a program that reaches out to teenagers and adults who are… are…" He swirled his hand around.

"Uh, _gay_?" Kyle replied sarcastically. Oliver nodded.

"Well, that's cool. Accepting us in a church like that is pretty progressive—"

"No. That's not what the program's about." Oliver flashed Kyle a knowing look. Comprehension dawned on the other boy and he took a long drink of his beer.

"Oh."

Oliver sighed. "Yeah. _Oh_."

"Your church wants to 'straighten me out'. So to speak." Oliver nodded wordlessly.

"So that's why you think it's a choice?"

"That, and the fact that the Bible says it's a sin."

Kyle hopped out of his chair and sat next to Oliver on the bed. "You know, a person chooses to commit a sin."

"Right. I know." Oliver stared at him, confused.

"So once you realize that being gay is a part of that person's biology, then you realize it's not a sin. There's nothing wrong with it." Kyle took another drink, keeping his eyes focused on Oliver the entire time.

Slowly, Oliver met his gaze. "That's a lot to ask. You're asking me to change my entire belief system for you."

Laughing softly, Kyle leaned back in his bed, placed his right hand behind his head, and drank his beer with his left. "Not your entire belief system." He squinted his right eye and held up two fingers in a pinching gesture. "Just this one tiny part of it."

It took one moment for the words to sink in, but when they did, Oliver couldn't help but chuckle; it felt genuine and comfortable. He shuffled down the bed and sat next to Kyle, his back against the wall. He tipped the neck of his bottle toward Kyle, who lifted his and clinked it against Oliver's.

"I'll work on it if you can promise to be patient. I am capable of doing really stupid things… as you can see."

Kyle laughed again. "Deal."

As the clock ticked away, and Kyle's roommate didn't return, the boys passed the time with another beer, and then another. Oliver wasn't nearly as drunk as he was that other night, but he was right on the tip between tipsy and buzzed. Certain things caught his attention, like the shock of his knuckles accidentally touching Kyle's, the way Kyle's voice swooped and changed when he related a story about his childhood and growing up.

At one point, Oliver realized his head was grazing Kyle's shoulder. Kyle was in the middle of a story about high school when he stopped. Oliver could feel a gentle puff of air graze the top of his head.

"What're you doing?"

Kyle's voice was calm and steady. There was none of the disbelief, the anger that had clouded his tone the last time he asked that question. Oliver said nothing in response, but instead found his friend's hand and threaded his fingers through his.

"Oliver? Wh-what are you doing. Are you trying to tell me something?"

He lifted his chin up, meeting Kyle's eyes. Slowly a smile emerged on his face. "I think I'm trying to tell you that you're pretty cool."

Kyle didn't reply immediately. After a minute, he flexed his jaw. "I wasn't trying to put any moves on you, you know."

"I know, Kyle."

"Up until that night you saw that IM, I thought you were totally into girls."

Oliver felt his insides shake, but he did not break his gaze. "I-I have been."

"And then I thought that, maybe, you were… that there was a possibility you might have been—"

"What?"

Kyle inhaled deeply and shrugged as if he had nothing to lose. "Jealous. Of my online friend."

A million replies swirled through Oliver's head, but only one response seemed to be appropriate. Feeling his breathing increase, he drew his hand out from Kyle's and touched his face. The stubble was still there, making the pads of his fingers, his thumb tingle, sending the sensation through his arm, right into his chest.

Oliver thought about saying, "Yeah, I was a little jealous," or, "You could do so much better, Kyle." Instead, he leaned forward and laid a gentle kiss on Kyle's lips. Where there was shock and anger the first time he kissed Kyle, Oliver felt pressure as the contact was returned.

Mouths open, breaths shaking, Oliver trembled as the contact intensified. He half-expected a bolt of lightning to come and strike them both dead, on this bed, and they'd be found with their faces still attached to each other.

But no lightning bolt came. Instead, warm breath and hands wrapped around Oliver's cheeks as Kyle drew him closer. He embraced the other boy, refusing to remove the hand that was cupping Kyle's face, that was inching to surround the back of his friend's head.

As Oliver tilted his head to the right, allowing the kiss to deepen, the phone rang. Kyle pulled away, startled as the loud noise interrupted the moment. With a shiver, he shot off the bed and answered it while Oliver rubbed his forehead and worried his bottom lip. What was he doing? Making out with another boy. A friend who had confided to him he was gay. Thinking about it, this made no sense at all to Oliver. But when he let go of that caution, of those mental barriers that he had put up his entire life, he felt deep down that kissing Kyle made a hell of a lot more sense than taking some girl he barely knew to his senior prom.

"That was Rooney. He's not coming back tonight." Kyle laughed awkwardly. "He wanted to make sure I didn't worry." He gently sat back down on the bed, as if he was worried any extra pressure would shift the atmosphere between them.

"Look, if you want to talk about what just happened—"

Oliver shut his eyes. "M-maybe I should go. Just for now." He grabbed his coat and scarf and dragged himself off the bed.

"Oliver, you don't have to. If you want to talk, I'm here."

"No, I know that," he said, his hand on the doorknob. He gave Kyle a small smile. "I'm tired and I don't know if it'd be a good idea to stay here any longer. Can I meet you for breakfast tomorrow?" He winced a little bit. It was lame to ask the boy he had just been making out with if he wanted to eat with him. But Oliver knew he wasn't ready to talk. Not yet. He couldn't verbalize who the hell he was, much less what Kyle was to him.

Perhaps if they could maintain their friendship and explore whatever this was between them, they'd be all right. Maybe…. _Perhaps_…

Jeeze, he was so weak.

Kyle nodded and opened the door. "I'll be up early. Come by whenever you're ready."

Oliver headed toward his room, pretending not to hear the long, heavy sigh from behind him, right before the other door shut.


	7. Part Seven

**A/N:** PG-13 for language. I promise that I'll be ramping them up and have them get more physically intense in Part Ten. Thanks so much to everyone who's been favoriting, alerting and reviewing this story. I really appreciate the feedback.

* * *

**Part Seven**

_**Come Together**_

**The Beatles**

As it was December, LU was neck-deep into the intramural basketball season. The KA∆s were teamed up with their sister sorority, the _Kappa Thetas_ and by the week before Christmas holiday, they were at the top of the Greek league. The two houses led the others in the tournament that would begin in January. As the team was made up of pledges and second year brothers, Kyle and Oliver were both on it. But of the two, Kyle was clearly the better player. In fact, Kyle was one of the best players on the entire team.

Oliver watched him play as he sat on the bench. It was impressive, that much couldn't be denied. Kyle's basketball prowess was obvious the moment he stepped foot on the court. What he lacked in height and body size he more than made up in speed and intelligence. He was too quick for the bigger guys, and he read the other teams' plays so well, he was consistently a few seconds ahead of the opposition.

His talents surprised even Oliver. Watching Kyle play and seeing him so damn skilled broke down another false belief he had always held.

Kyle liked boys; Oliver had no doubts about that. But Kyle was also athletic and strong. Masculine. Everything that his father had said a man should be, Kyle was. Had he not admitted his sexuality to Oliver, and had he not been receptive to kissing him, he would never have known. Oliver looked for anything that broke the façade of masculinity. Anything in his walk, or how he talked. But he saw nothing. Kyle Lewis was Kyle Lewis, and no one would be able to deny he was a man.

The more Oliver hung out with Kyle, the more he questioned his own assumptions about people. It was unsettling, but it was always there, always in the back of his mind.

Several loud bellows drew Oliver back to the game. Kyle had maneuvered close to one of the _Kappa Theta_s, the ball in his tight grasp. The other guy defending Kyle was all over him like he was an octopus... made out of glue... and covered in fly paper.

Kyle faked a pass and threw the guy off. He shot the ball right into the girl's hands, and she bolted down the court. Kyle ran beside her, darting past the other team, his feet flying left to right. She passed the ball to him, and he took the shot—

The referee blew his whistle. 'That's the game! 14-10 — winners: _Kappa Alpha Deltas_ and _Kappa Thetas_!"

The other KAΔs ran off the bench. They slapped Kyle on the back, offering him hearty congratulations and effusive compliments about his game play. The KΘs mingled happily with the boys, who mingled right back with the same enthusiasm. Oliver stood apart from the joyous mob. By all appearances, he was observing, smiling and celebrating separate from the others.

He only had eyes for one individual.

Kyle was chatting with the girl who had assisted him on the last play. They were laughing together, seemingly at ease. And then, she reached out and brushed her hand against his arm.

Oliver's body stiffened, the smile on his face froze. Something red-hot crawled in his stomach. It was completely unreasonable for him to feel the slightest pang of jealousy at the scene. After all, it was Kyle who had admitted he was into boys. It was Kyle who had kissed him when they were together and drinking in the dorms.

Well… technically it was _he_ who had kissed Kyle, both times. But Kyle had reciprocated.

This feeling was stupid. Insane, especially since Kyle was friendly, but clearly not receptive to the girl's flirting. It made no sense for him to feel jealous of a girl speaking to him. But he couldn't stop feeling insecure. What if Kyle decided that he didn't mind her advances? What if she was the girl who made him realize he wasn't totally into boys? Sure he said it wasn't a choice, but what if it was? On one hand, that would be good for Oliver; that would mean this whole thing with Kyle could be just a phase, and he could still be normal.

_Could be…?_

As he continued to watch his friend talk and laugh with the girl, he wasn't sure if he could go back to being "normal". If he could go back to liking girls. Not that he had really ever been attracted to the opposite sex.

_Not like you are with Kyle -- dammit! _

Oliver pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and tried, vainly, to ignore his own brain.

The group left the gym and headed toward the KAΔ house. Oliver walked with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his arms pressed tight against his body. Attempting a casual appearance, he scratched his chin on his shoulder, but he turned just enough to look behind him.

Kyle was still talking to the girl, who now had her phone out and was typing something in it. Possibly a phone number. Or a text message. Or a… a—

Oliver grunted and whipped around, clutching his sweater around his neck to prevent the frosty December air from biting him. He heard Kyle say a goodbye, and then quick footsteps approached him. There was a hard slap on his shoulder.

"Hey! We won, dude."

"Yeah, great — _dude_." Oliver couldn't stop himself from sounding sullen. "You did good. Wouldn't have won without you."

"What's gotten into you?"

Oliver jerked his shoulder out from Kyle's grip and pivoted around. "I'm heading back to the dorms," he shouted. "Not feeling good." The other brothers barely acknowledged him; they only waved and yelled incoherently. He walked briskly toward the dorms, but he knew he wasn't alone.

"Seriously, what's your problem?"

Oliver shot Kyle a look and nudged his head back behind him. "Nothing's my problem. So, who's your new friend?"

There was a disbelieving snort. "You're serious?"

"What?"

Kyle jogged around to face Oliver; he continued to walk even though his friend obstructed his path. This didn't deter Kyle, who merely matched Oliver's pace going backwards.

"You're jealous?"

Fish dismissed the inquiry outright. "I'm not. You're free to talk to whomever you want. I don't care."

Kyle stopped dead in his tracks. Looking around to make sure no one was watching them, he jabbed his palm firmly in the middle of Oliver's chest.

"What?"

"You know who I am, Oliver. You know better than anyone else here."

"Do we really need to talk about this out in the open?"

Kyle flung his arm out. "Do you see anyone else around?"

Oliver stared at him for a few seconds. His nostrils flared slightly before he replied. "Like I said — it's nothing."

There was no walking away from the unrelenting gaze Kyle aimed at him. The seconds felt like minutes as both boys stood where they had stopped, watching each other, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I'm going up." Kyle pivoted sharply and stormed away. Oliver followed him, his glowering expression not softening one iota.

They made it to their floor, neither boy saying anything. As Kyle opened the door to his room, Oliver's hand shot out, preventing the door from shutting. Kyle shook his head; he didn't even try to resist Oliver from coming into his room. "That's one annoying habit you have there, Fish."

Before he shut the door, Oliver made sure they were alone; Rooney, Kyle's roommate, must have been out with his girlfriend. "Kyle," he said, closing and locking the door. "Look, I don't know what got into me. I-I saw you talking to that girl—"

"Who's in our Zoology seminar, and who needed notes for a couple of lectures that she missed, _by – the – way_!"

That statement threw Oliver off, but only for a brief moment. "Well, whatever reasons she had for flirting with you, I don't know. I'm not psychic. I'm not a mind-reader. I don't know what's going on in her head. But if she was flirting, then you were too. And what does that mean if you say you're gay? Why the hell would you flirt with her? You were talking to her like you liked her. A-and… I don't know why you were. And you know what's worse? I didn't like it! I didn't like it at all, even if it means you might actually like girls. That'd be good for both of us… but I wouldn't like it, and I don't know what that means."

Oliver had no idea what he was saying. He was so worked up, so agitated that his brain seemed to be throwing anything together. His ramblings came pouring out of him like one big word salad with every possible dressing on top, much less on the side.

In an instant, Kyle's face lost the tension that had gripped it. His eyes softened, his frowning lips eased up into a relaxed line. Slowly, he approached Oliver. He didn't reach out for him, but there was no denying that he wanted to.

"Oliver, it's all right if you're jealous."

"But I'm not," came his feeble protest.

Kyle put his hand on Oliver's chest, his fingers flexing slightly and catching his sweater. "It's all right if you like me. It's all right if you're feeling something, even if you don't know or want to say what it is."

He could feel his heart racing beneath Kyle's hand. He choked on his own voice. "I… can't," he replied softly.

There was a small, sharp intake of breath. "You know, I was confused. For a really long time. My… uh, my family," Kyle said, laughing as he spoke, "they seemed to know before I did that I was into guys. One day, they sat me down and told me I was gay. It was okay. They laughed and told me they'd had known for a long time. They even threw a party for me and we talked the rest of the night about everything. Life. What type of guy they thought would make me happy. What they were worried about—"

"What were they worried about?" Oliver asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Kyle's face twitched, as if the memory was both happy and sad for him. "Mostly about society, that there're some people out there who'd want to hurt me because I'm gay. Also, they were worried about me getting my heart broken. Like any parent would be."

Oliver nodded absently. He fell down onto Kyle's bed, hunched over. His hand propped up his head, which felt weighted down as if he were made of lead. There was a dip next to him. Kyle remained perfectly still, waiting for him to talk.

"That's great for you," Oliver started, his tone melancholy. "But I can't have that with my family. If they even thought I was…" He shut his eyes. "I just can't!"

Kyle leaned into him. "But they're your mom and dad. They're supposed to love you no matter what."

Oliver snorted sadly and looked at Kyle. "They'd cut me out. Like that." He snapped his fingers.

"But they may not."

"You don't know them. This — me just being here with you like this — would be wrong to them. I've already done the worst thing they can think of."

Kyle blinked. Swallowing, he reached up and ran his finger along Oliver's forehead, gently touching his hair. His fingertip made his skin tingle, the sensation overwhelming him. He closed his eyes again and inhaled, savoring the feeling, letting himself enjoy it.

He felt the back of Kyle's hand brush his cheek, the bumps of his knuckles, the smoothness of his fingernails. Instinctively, Oliver angled his head toward the contact.

"I'm here for you, Oliver. No matter what."

Oliver's lips found Kyle's palm. He kissed it, his eyes watching as Kyle's cheeks reddened.

"I know you are."

Without another word, Kyle brought his other hand up to Oliver's face and kissed him. Although he wasn't drunk or buzzed, Oliver welcomed it. He wanted Kyle to kiss him; he wanted it desperately, and at this moment, he needed it. Somehow, that kiss felt right, the touching of their lips, their cheeks, their tongues. And as the kiss intensified, he prayed that there would be no interruptions.


	8. Part Eight

**A/N:** Hopefully y'all won't mind how I wrote Oliver's mom here. I thought it might be interesting to have her think something _is_ going on with Oliver, even if she doesn't want to admit it. And thanks so much for reading this! I'm glad that y'all seem to be enjoying the story.

* * *

**Part Eight**

_**Fool For You**_

**Duffy**

"_How was ur Xmas, Fish?_"

It was December 26th. Oliver, still feeling full from turkey and ham, pastries, chocolate and eggnog from the past two days, leaned back in his chair. His hand propped up his head and his finger rubbed his bottom lip. He watched as the cursor inside the little IM box flashed off and on at the end of Kyle's message.

Smiling to himself, he started typing on the keyboard that was on his lap.

"_Went well. How 'bout u?_"

"Oliver?"

He jumped up, startled when he heard his mother's voice directly behind him. He thought he had shut the door all the way, but it must have been slightly open. He realized he needed to be more vigilant, although neither he nor Kyle had said anything that was questionable or problematic.

"Mom, what're you doing here?"

"Sweetie, I didn't mean to startle you." Barbara Fish gestured to the plate and glass that she was holding. "I just thought you might be hungry. Plus, we've got so much food left from the past couple of days that I need your help to eat it all up!" She sat them down on the desk next to Oliver's monitor. He grinned wryly; Wonder Bread, leftover turkey, tomato, cheese with mayonnaise sandwich, with cookies and a mug of hot chocolate. There was something comforting about the whole plate, and the sandwich in particular. He had plenty of fond memories of sandwiches like this when he was a kid. Of his mom packing his lunch with a note on his napkin saying how much she loved him. Of him eating sandwiches like this one after his little league games, where his dad would smile at him and tell him how proud he was—

Oliver felt a lump bubble up from his throat. Forcing it back down, he coughed and picked up half of the sandwich. "Thanks."

"Are you okay, Oliver?"

He nodded rapidly. "I'm fine." He took a bite, torn between wanting her to stay here and talk to him like everything was normal and wanting her to leave him alone so he could chat with Kyle.

She put her hand on his shoulder. "Well, your father and I noticed that you've been a little — I don't know."

He twisted around in his seat and regarded her, chewing slowly, feeling the wad grow rubbery in his mouth.

"You've seemed distracted since you've come back home. Quiet, too." She ruffled his hair. "Is everything all right at school?"

Swallowing the bite and very nearly choking on it, Oliver sought to assuage his mom's concerns. "No, everything's going okay. I'm just relaxing." He laughed, feeling awkward and extremely small. "It's been an exhausting semester—"

"Who's _KyLewis82_?"

Oliver thought his heart was going to explode. His mom was staring at the computer screen with the little IM box, the cursor flashing black against the white background.

And, of course, Kyle's last message in blazing red: "_Hey, bud. Everything OK?_"

"Oh! Uh… j-just a friend. Ah… another KAΔ." Oliver swore to himself; he had to come up with some reason that he was online with Kyle, and he had to do it fast. While he typed out a message back —"_OK. Mom's w/ me. She asked who U R._"

"He and I—"

"Oh, Ky's a he?" His mom's face fell; it was minute, almost unnoticeable, but it didn't escape Oliver. He had no idea what to make of it.

"He's actually Kyle. And h-he's just a friend. We do a lot of things together." Oliver hoped fervently that he wasn't blushing as he spoke. "Like, we found this MMORPG that we've been playing in the dorms." He smiled, although it was more at his cleverness than anything else. If he threw a lot of technical abbreviations at his mother, she'd focus on that, rather than Kyle. Just as he had predicted, she raised her eyebrow, confused.

"What's a 'MMORPG'?"

"It's just this thing we play online. It's huge, with people playing it all over the world. A lot of us at LU and at the house play it. There's this storyline about trolls and elves and you have to kill things to get points. Kyle and I've been talking strategies—"

Barbara laughed and held her hand up. "My goodness! You boys and your computers. When your dad was your age, it was all about sports. Well, for him it was also about fishing. And cars."

Laughing at his own good fortune that he had successfully distracted his mom, Oliver grinned. "I still think he'd buy his '65 Corvette Roadster if you gave him half a chance."

Barbara chuckled. "Don't I know it. Well, sweetie, I'll let you get back to your chatting. Tell your friend I said 'Hi'. I do hope he'll be a good friend to you."

Oliver realized that she spoke without the bright, chipper tone she normally used. Part of him wanted to ask about it. However, he was far too anxious to get back to chatting with Kyle to ponder why his mom seemed bothered.

"Oliver?" She pointed her finger at him as she shut the door. "You should get outside at some point. Some fresh air would do you good."

He nodded and smiled. "Got it."

"Love you, dear."

"Love you too." Oliver watched as she shut the door. He put his sandwich down and turned back to the computer screen.

_"I'm back. Sorry."_

The text on the bottom on the screen indicated Kyle was typing a reply.

_"No prob. Ur mom all right?"_

Oliver grinned, and pounded away at the keyboard. _"Fine. She says hi BTW."_

He watched the monitor as the next message from Kyle appeared. _"Cool."_

Hesitating, but only for a moment, Oliver typed and sent out his reply — _"Could've used u here. Would've been fun."_

Seconds ticked by until Kyle delivered his message. _"Same here."_

_

* * *

_

If one had asked Oliver Fish how he had gotten himself into this position, he wouldn't have been able to tell you. There was no thought in his actions, no premeditation, no planning. Coming back from Christmas break, the first thing he, Kyle, and several of their brothers decided to do was see if any of the older KAΔs were back and wanting to drink.

Two hours, and several beers later, that latter question had been answered.

Oliver slung his arm over Kyle's shoulders. Both boys lagged behind the group walking back to the dorms; Fish was thoroughly drunk but in a jovial mood. He was singing some foul fraternity drinking song. Oliver was in mid-swear, when—

"Shut it, Fish! Security."

Oliver cringed, snickering into Kyle's shoulder. "Oops."

"Fish," Kyle whispered, grinning and shaking his head, "you're wasted! Gone. Majorly fucked up--"

"I _know_!" Oliver's eyes lingered on Kyle's for a second longer than was necessary. "Y'know," he said, slurring his words as Kyle positioned him so he wouldn't appear so obviously drunk, "I never usedta drink like this."

"You don't say."

"Uh-uh." Oliver lolled his head back and forth in an exaggerated shake. "My firs' drink — like 'full bottle of beer all to myself' drink — was at that firs' hall party. An' guess... _what_?" He poked his friend in the chest. This elicited a small, amused snort from Kyle.

"What?"

"I told ya t' guess."

Kyle cocked his eyebrow. "Fish—"

"Did I ever tell ya I like it when _you..._ call me Oliver?"

Kyle's smile faltered. He went silent for a few moments. "No, you didn't. That's a new one."

Oliver swiveled his head around so his mouth was close to Kyle's ear. "Well I do."

"Hey! Ladies, wanna get a move on?"

The yell caught both Kyle and Oliver off-guard. Walker Morris, fellow pledge and resident of Dolby Hall, was smirking at them. "I don't wanna break the wittle _love_ fest goin' on here—"

"Fuck you, Morris," Kyle said, glaring at him. They pushed past the other bodies and hauled ass to the elevators. Kyle and Oliver nodded goodbyes as each brother left for their respective floors, finally making it to their own. Oliver was still clearly drunk, and he was leaning against Kyle for support.

"Dude, you need help to your room?"

Oliver shook his head. "Let' s just use yours. It's right here and y'know Rooney's not goin' to be in."

Kyle eyed Oliver and then eyed his door. With a sigh, he lowered his voice. "This is not a good idea."

"Please?" Oliver pleaded, hoping that he was giving Kyle his most pitiful gaze; he wasn't quite sure how pitiful he looked, given his intoxication. Watching Oliver with an exasperated expression, Kyle breathed out laboriously. He unlocked his door and hurled Oliver into his room first. The absentee roommate was, once again, absent.

"If Rooney didn't have his stuff in his closet, I wouldn't even know that he lived here." Kyle locked the door and went to his refrigerator. "You know what you need, Oliver?"

"Beer?" He flopped down on Kyle's bed.

"Bartender says you're cut off." Kyle said, winking and smirking. He stood back up and wiggled a water bottle at him. "You're getting some nice, cold H2O."

Annoyed, Oliver blew him a raspberry. "Whatever." Oliver flung his arm out and Kyle handed the bottle over to him—

Which dropped on the floor and rolled away as Oliver grabbed Kyle's wrist and yanked him down onto the bed. Right on top of him.

"Hi."

Kyle froze. He didn't breathe and his arms went as rigid as stone. "Why did you do that?"

Oliver shrugged, but he felt pleased with himself that he could make Kyle nervous. Lewis was pretty cute when he was nervous.

Scratch that. He was damn cute.

"I don't know. Why did you lock the door?"

"I… don't know."

Oliver grinned as he allowed his eyes to take in his friend's startled expression. "You don't seem to know a whole lot."

Kyle snorted, but the momentary lapse of amusement didn't detract from his clear apprehension. His dark eyes were wild, practically the size of saucers. Oliver noticed his skin had reddened, even in the dim light of the dorm room. And his mouth was open, his lower lip barely trembling as he tried to regain control of his breath.

As nervous as he appeared, Kyle didn't get up from this compromising position. He was tense, certainly. But he wasn't moving. He wasn't crawling off of the bed.

Kyle braced himself, his palms flat on the mattress right next to Oliver's head. "This is leading to…" He gulped. "To some very bad _things_."

Oliver barely paid attention to what his friend said. Smiling but feeling apprehensive, he reached down. His hand found the warm skin of Kyle's waist and he watched his friend react to the unexpected contact. Kyle's eyes popped out and then squeezed shut. He halted in mid-inhalation, and Oliver felt the slight shiver that coursed through his body.

It was intense. Oliver's own heart skipped a beat when his palm touched the bare patch of lower torso, the same spot that had mesmerized him so many weeks ago.

"Oliver, don't—"

"Don't what?" His eyes were focused wholly on Kyle's mouth, even as his fingers moved slowly up and down his waist. He kept staring at him, watching him inhale… exhale… inhale…

Until he couldn't do it anymore. Oliver angled his body upward and kissed Kyle. At first, the other boy was stiff, unyielding. He didn't kiss back.

At first.

Oliver parted his lips wider and he grasped Kyle's waist in a tighter grip. In no time, the kiss deepened, both boys' hands surrounding their heads and pulling them closer together. Oliver felt Kyle's fingers in his hair, his arm circling around his torso. Their heads swiveled from left to right as they rolled over on the bed to lie and face each other on their sides. Oliver hooked his leg around Kyle and the pressure of feeling his body, strong and solid and warm, excited him in a way that was both shocking and strange. When he felt Kyle's lips touch his neck, he let out a gasp of surprise and tightened his hold. He did the same to Kyle, wondering if he could elicit a similar reaction; when he heard the same gasp and the moan that followed, he knew he had his answer.

There were no interruptions — no phone calls, no knocks on the door, no roommates. It was only the two of them, kissing and grasping and moaning. Oliver didn't dare move his hand any lower down Kyle's body, though he felt himself twitch with an almost compulsive need to explore. They broke apart after what seemed like hours, Kyle touching his cheek and smiling although the skin around his eyes didn't wrinkle as he did. He watched Oliver silently, lying next to him as he drifted off.

Right before he fell asleep, Oliver could've sworn he felt his bed lighten. He thought that, maybe, he heard the sounds of the other bed's squeaky springs to his right.


	9. Part Nine

**A/N:** Thanks so much! The feedback for this story's been great. I couldn't ask for better reviews and comments!

* * *

**Part Nine:**

_**Help Me**_

**Joni Mitchell**

The two fraternity brothers sat in Kyle Lewis' dorm room. Oliver sat cross-legged on Kyle's bed, his laptop open, working on his Intro to Psychology paper, but it was a painfully inadequate distraction. He simply couldn't stop staring at Kyle as he sat at his desk. Not that he was doing anything particularly provocative. Oliver found himself mesmerized as he watched him. He could watch Kyle all day long, doing anything really — Kyle pulling on his lip while he stared intently at something. Kyle cocking his eyebrow at something stupid a professor or frat brother said. Kyle winking and smirking at things he thought particularly amusing.

He had a way of reacting to everything around him, everything he experienced. While Oliver tried to hold whatever he was feeling inside and not react too much lest he draw attention to himself, Kyle simply let everything out. He didn't care. And Oliver always found himself observing him, studying him, anticipating what he'd do next.

There were a couple of clicks as Kyle punched his keyboard, followed by a low whistle. "_Damn_!" He chuckled in disbelief. "Whoa! That's pretty good!"

Oliver couldn't hold back a grin. "What?"

"$575 a month for a studio on Maple Drive. It's walking distance to campus. That's less than two dollars per square foot, and the building's only a couple of years old. Heat and water included, but no electric. And washers and dryers are on property... Hey! I can get a dog. Cool."

Oliver scrunched his nose up. "Won't that be a little cramped?"

Kyle shrugged. "I can make do for the summer. All I'll have to come up with is... what? $860? $865? That's half of what I'll owe for those three months until September. My family could help with the rest."

Oliver sat up in the bed and leaned forward. "So you're intent on doing this on your own?"

"Yeah. I wanna get out of the dorms. Have fewer people in my business. Get some privacy. Plus, the house won't be open from May until that last week in August when we can start moving in."

"Uh huh."

Kyle's brow fell. "This bothering you, Fish?"

Oliver scratched the back of his head. He couldn't put his finger on why he felt so uneasy about Kyle moving into his own apartment, as small and as cramped as it appeared to be. It was only for three months. Normally, it was cool for the guys to get a place that wasn't a dorm room or campus housing; several of the guys in their pledge class were getting their own places and had asked both of them if they wanted in. But Kyle said he needed privacy. Was it for them? Was Kyle expecting more of … _whatever_ they were doing with each other when they got drunk? Or did he need his own place so he could see other guys, and not just Oliver.

He shut his eyes; the latter was not something he wanted to contemplate. The former was something that intrigued him, although it frightened him to consider it.

"Hey."

Oliver snapped his head up. "Yeah?"

"What's your deal? I totally lost you for a second."

Oliver cleared his throat. "Well," he began, realizing he was struggling to frame his words, "I just think that, perhaps, you'd do better if you…"

"If I what?"

He looked up at Kyle, his expression uneasy. "You'd like it more if you had more room. And a roommate who you could split the bills with, if you're concerned about money and rent and stuff."

Why he had chosen to say that was beyond him. Kyle, though, sensed none of his trepidation or confusion. He merely turned back to his computer screen.

"Eh. I don't want anyone getting more information about me than I'm ready to give out. Besides, who'd you recommend to be my roommate?"

"Um... 'kay then. How 'bout me?"

Kyle stiffened instantly. He turned slowly, facing Oliver, his expression hardening like water freezing into a block of ice. "You?"

"What's wrong with you and me living together."

He stared at Oliver, then he snorted derisively. Barking out a laugh, more out of disbelief than humor, Kyle finally replied, "You're shitting me, right? This is a joke?"

"No, it's not. What's so funny about suggesting you and I live together?"

Kyle bolted out of his seat and paced back and forth. "Oh, just off the top of my head, I can think of a million things funny — and wrong — with us being roommates."

Crossing his arms, Oliver glared at his friend. "Well I'd like to hear them—"

"_First_," Kyle interjected, cutting him off, "and foremost, if your parents found out you were living with a…" He stopped so he could laugh again. "That your roommate was gay, they'd yank you outta here before you could say '_ho-mo-sexual!_'"

Oliver recognized the inherent irony of that statement; their reaction to his roommate being gay would be positively minuscule if they ever found out about what went on in their own son's head. Or what he got up to with Kyle when they were alone and full of beer.

"But, there's nothing about you that would give anything away!" Oliver said, instead of voicing the other things he was thinking. "You totally seem like you're an average, normal guy."

Kyle groaned. "God, how many times do we have to go over this? I _am_ an average, normal guy! I happen to like other guys — who also happen to be average. And _normal_! Jeez!"

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I just meant that you don't have to tell them about you. It's — it's none of their business." Oliver tried to keep his voice steady, even. Free from nerves. But inside, he was roiling.

"Whatever." Kyle stood with his arms crossed. He tapped his foot against the floor, in rhythm with the finger that was tapping on his upper arm. He clearly wanted to say something, but held back.

"What?" Oliver implored.

"If I say it, you'll just leave."

A sinking feeling grew in Oliver's stomach. His guts churned, knowing what Kyle was going to say and hoping fervently that he wouldn't bring it up. Talking about what they were doing at night intoxicated broke the unspoken oath between them — "_Don't ask, don't tell, just make out_."

Oliver shut his eyes; it was useless. When Kyle Lewis had something he wanted to say, he was going to say it, sooner or later. It was better to get it over with.

"And second?"

"_Second._" Kyle couldn't hold back any longer. "Moving in with someone that you've been hooking up with is never a good idea!"

"_Shh_! Would you keep it down?" Oliver flapped his hands in front of him, hoping Kyle would lower his voice. "The whole hall 'll hear."

"Fine. Great. If they do, big deal."

Oliver blinked. "I thought you wanted to 'not make a deal' out of it?"

"Yeah well," Kyle said with a snort, "that was before I realized you sort of liked having my tongue – _shoved – down – your - throat_! And before I realized you'd run off whenever you sobered up because you're not as straight as you thought you were."

"Seriously, would you shut up?"

Kyle hissed and spun around. His hands clenched his hair, nearly tearing it out of his scalp. "If this is the only way we're ever going to talk about what we've been doing, then I'm doing it!" He flung his arms out and stared at Oliver defiantly." "Or do I have to get you a beer or two or _five_ so we can have this conversation?"

Oliver stood up from the bed. "Why do we have to talk about anything? You wanted to be discreet. We're being discreet. No one knows and no one will ever know. Besides, it's not like it's a big deal for you or anything."

Kyle's face fell. "What the hell — is that what you think? That this isn't important to me?"

Oliver had no idea why he said that; too many times, he had seen Kyle smile after he kissed him. He had felt Kyle touch his face. Every bit of visual and tactile evidence that Oliver had collected whenever they spent time alone together told him that it wasn't just physical. There was something more between them, greater than just the secret that they shared. However, there was no way in hell he was going to acknowledge that.

"You know," Kyle said, his hands on his hips, his eyes focused only on Oliver's face, "I _do_ like you. I like kissing you, even though you only have the guts to kiss me when you're wasted."

Oliver said nothing in response. He glared at Kyle, growing more and more livid with every word his boyfr-, no... his _friend_ said. Who the hell was he to judge him? He had no idea what Oliver went through every day, what he felt, what he thought, and that every single time he was with Kyle he was going against nature, his parents, and even God.

"But the one time I really liked kissing you? Was when you didn't smell like a damn bar."

Squaring his jaw, feeling every muscle in his body on the verge of exploding, Oliver instead stormed toward his things on Kyle's bed. He stuffed his laptop into his book bag, and shut his book, not caring that several notes had fallen onto the floor. He walked to the door and flung it open.

"Big surprise."

Oliver paused, his hand on the doorknob, his fury rising. He didn't turn to face Kyle, but that didn't stop Kyle.

"That seems to be the one thing you're good at -- running away before things get tough."

Oliver slammed the door behind him, willing himself with each step back to his own dorm room that this whole stupid thing had been a bad dream. Tomorrow, he was going to wake up and somehow be normal again.

* * *

In the final month of his freshman year, Oliver Fish came to a realization. Figuring out girls was hard. And as much energy as he put into trying, it wasn't coming as easy as it had been to figure out Kyle Lewis.

"So Oliver," Nancy Sheldon said, her voice soft, "I, uh, had a great time tonight."

"Oh, that's good. No, that's great! Nice, too. I'm very glad -- I mean, that was my overall intention, y'know. Showing you a good time." Oliver's voice was overly bright and chipper, so different from how he sounded when he was with--

He shook his head; he didn't want to go there tonight. Not again.

They were in the middle of a slow dance for _Kappa Theta_'s big end-of-year date party, Lover's Luau. Although they were one of many couples on the crowded dance floor, Oliver felt like he had a spotlight shining on him. Hell, he had felt like that the entire night -- conspicuous, like a sore thumb. At first, he thought it was just the tacky Hawaiian shirt he had been forced to wear because of the theme. And the stupid lei around his neck. But it wasn't just those things.

Oliver found himself preoccupied with what came out of his mouth. He took great pains to comment on Nancy's appearance and to be attentive to what she wanted. He got her drinks, paid for her dinner, and listened to her conversation. It wasn't bad. She was cute, and she was also smart and pretty funny, but beyond that... eh.

They weren't on the same page. Of course, she was just one girl, and she wasn't the end of Oliver's straight world by any means. But watching the things he said, scrutinizing how he talked about his fraternity brothers, and how he spent his time with when he wasn't in classes was tiring.

Most importantly was making sure he chose carefully how he talked about his... well, Kyle Lewis.

Unfortunately, Kyle was also there at the date party and he was having a great time with his date. Every time Oliver looked over at him with the girl -- Leslie, the KƟ who had made Oliver insanely jealous after that intramural basketball game -- Kyle was grinning like he was having the time of his life. He twirled her around on the dance floor with moves that put many of the other pledges to shame. Leslie was clearly lapping up all the attention. It drove Oliver crazy that he looked so damn comfortable, so at ease with himself.

Even worse, Oliver realized that by the time the dance was nearly over, he was paying far more attention to stupid Kyle and his stupid, fun date than to his own.

Oliver and Nancy broke apart and headed back to an empty table. "Hey," Oliver said, using that same bright tone that didn't quite sound like him, "you want anything?"

"Yeah, a drink would be nice." She nodded and smiled. He turned to head towards the restrooms first.

"Oliver?"

He looked back. Nancy's smile had faded.

"I... um, I don't suppose you'd want to go spend some time alone with me, would you?"

His heart sank, but he hoped desperately that it didn't register on his face. "Y-yeah! That sounds great!" He grinned broadly. "Er... give me a sec."

Oliver didn't wait to see her react or to hear her respond; he bolted for the gent's room and found a free stall. Leaning against the wall, he took a couple of deep breaths, collected his thoughts and willed himself to get excited. He could do this, he knew he had it in him to show this girl a good time. All his brothers teased him about not going to date parties and not going out with girls that showed an interest in him. He could only hide behind the schoolwork excuse for so long.

Here he was now; it was time to cowboy up and do what men were supposed to do with the opposite sex.

Taking two more deep breaths, Oliver nodded resolutely and opened the door.

"Hey... _buddy_."

Everything disappeared as he stared right into the face of Kyle Lewis.

"K-Kyle."

He looked at Oliver. Slowly, a smirk grew on Kyle's face. "So, Fish, you havin' fun?"

He struggled to keep his emotions in check, although the way his stomach swooped, Oliver wasn't sure if it wasn't going to fly out of his body and land on the floor between them. "Yeah. Nancy and I are having a great time."

"Aw, gee whiz, kid!" Kyle reared his arm back and lightly tapped, his fist on Oliver's arm. "That's just _swell_. That's really, totally _awesome_!" There was no mistaking the drawl of Kyle's tone; he oozed sarcasm -- _angry sarcasm_ -- masked behind that fake smile.

Oliver grew more angry, more annoyed at Kyle's attitude. He shoved past him to the sink to wash his hands. There were footsteps behind him. When Oliver looked up at the mirror, he saw Kyle standing over his shoulder. Both boys looked so strange, glaring at each other with chilly stares, both clad in colorful, gaudy Hawaiian shirts and leis. They were a sight, a rainbow of bright color belying a mass of emotions struggling to get out.

Kyle had that same wise-ass smirk plastered on, infuriating Oliver even more. "What? I'm truly happy for you, _Fish_, if you've found someone who understands you so well."

He shut off the sink and shook the excess water off making sure a little bit of it splashed onto Kyle. "I'm just glad you're enjoying yourself so damn much, _Lewis_."

Kyle paused. Looking away, he shook his head. "Well, I'm having a blast. Leslie's just a friend, y'know? There's no pressure on me to be anything other than myself." Kyle's eyes scanned the length of Oliver's body. He folded his arms and flashed him a subtle wink. "Which is a good thing, as being me's the only thing I'm real damn good at."

Snorting, Oliver turned around. "Gotta get back to my date," he said, just as he was about to open the door.

"And I hope ya two have fun!" Kyle's sharp voice managed to cut through the blaring music. It echoed in Oliver's head as he went to get Nancy a drink.

********


	10. Part Ten

**A/N:** Thanks so much for reading this. I'm upping this to R in the next chapter, Part Eleven. I am not a graphic smut writer, and in particular, I get very worried that I'm doing a disservice to the characters and that I'm messing up writing intimacy between people of the same sex. This does lead into the more physically intense parts in the next chapter.

Just for the record, I totally wrote this chapter about a month ago... before there was any dirt-covered, towel-clad Oliver Fish on the show yesterday (and posted first on Kishmet, the fansite for Kyle/Fish). Maybe I'm a wee bit psychic or something? *wink*

* * *

**Part Ten:**

_**Show Me What I'm Looking For**_

**Carolina Liar**

This whole thing was driving him insane.

Oliver jogged past the apartment complex on Maple Drive for the third... fourth... maybe tenth time that day. His heart beat louder and quicker than normal the closer he approached 105-B.

He swallowed nervously. 105-B -- Kyle's apartment. He had been there since summer began, and Oliver hadn't seen him since the last day of spring term. He stopped jogging, placed his hands on his knees and bent over to catch his breath. His eyes remained focused on the apartment door. He could feel his brain working some sort of Jedi mind trick, willing the door to open. He wanted to see him again so badly.

Oliver hadn't spoken to Kyle since the KΘ date party. After the run-in with Kyle in the bathroom, his nerves frayed, Oliver had asked his date if he could escort her back to her room and call it an early evening. He remembered something coming out of his mouth like, "I think it's a bug or something... I don't know. It's going around our house." She had accepted his excuse with a sad smile and gave him her phone number. He called her a couple of days later to see if they could grab lunch, as they were both going to be in town over the summer. She sounded happy about that.

That was almost three weeks ago. He hadn't heard from her since.

Instead, Oliver thought about Kyle. What was Kyle doing? How was he doing? Who was he seeing... was he even seeing anyone at all? The latter thought practically killed him, as images of Kyle wrapped around other guys and touching and kissing them filled his brain, making Oliver feel confused and conflicted. When he walked through campus to get to classes, he always looked for Kyle. His breath caught if he thought he saw him, and he felt slightly lost when he realized Kyle wasn't there.

Which brought him to this moment, standing off the concrete walk, just behind some bushes. Through the foliage, he could see the door clearly and he kept his eye out for Kyle's car, an old beat-up blue Civic with a KAΔ sticker on the back window. The dirt beneath his feet was still soft from some heavy rains from the past few days. Oliver remained mindful of the mud spot near him; with his luck, he'd trip and land directly in the muck and--

"_Fish_! What the hell're you doing?"

"I-wasn't-doing-anything... _WHOA_!"

Oliver jumped as the voice startled him. His ankle slid into the slick mud, and his leg flew out from under him. He fell, ass first, right into the still-watery ground, splashing his shirt and shorts all over with wet, thick dirt. Shocked, completely embarrassed at his condition, Oliver caught his breath and looked up at the guy who had startled him.

Of course. It was Kyle. Big shock. He snorted; there wasn't much else he could do.

"Hi," he said meekly. He expected Kyle to wave him off with some sarcastic remark and leave him here humiliated and alone.

"Wow. You're a mess." His tone was teasing, but far more gentle than he had sounded at that date party ages ago. He offered Oliver a hand; a lop-sided grin favoring the right side of his face emerged. "Want some help there, Slick?"

Oliver took Kyle's hand, using it to steady himself as he stood up. "Thanks. I, uh..." He quickly assessed the mess; he was drenched. The mud had soaked through his shorts and his boxers, making the fabric stick to his skin uncomfortably. His white shirt was caked, as were his legs and his hands. "I'm a disaster, aren't I?"

Kyle raised his eyebrow. "It's safe to say you shouldn't go to any fancy balls in, um... your current state." He chuckled. "Come on," he said, his voice amused with a hint of exasperation. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Although he was surprised with Kyle's demeanor, Oliver felt horrible that he had caught him spying. He walked behind Kyle, unable to speak because what the hell could he say? He had left his pride back in that mud puddle, and there were no words that would help retrieve it.

Kyle unlocked his door and tossed his keys into a small bowl on a table. "Didn't clean up. Sorry."

Oliver stood inside the small patch of linoleum at the front of the door. The apartment was barely that; it was a basic studio unit, with a large bookshelf dividing the living room from the bedroom, and a small partition that functioned as a counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the space. The only furniture in the living room was a television, a faded blue couch with a couple of patches holding it together, and a coffee table, with his laptop, papers and a manila envelope scattered haphazardly. Greek shirts and boxers and textbooks were strewn about. The space was cluttered and dirty, but the more Oliver observed, the more he realized that the apartment had a certain "Kyle-ness" about it. That inexplicably charmed him.

"It's fine." Oliver smiled. "It's a nice place."

"Heh. You don't have to lie to me about it," Kyle replied with a small chuckle. "Hang tight and I'll get you some stuff you can wear. Here ya go." He tossed a towel to Oliver, who caught it with one hand. "Just hand your clothes over and I'll throw them in with my dirty ones. I needed to do laundry anyway."

Oliver gaped. "Uh.... l-laundry?"

"Yeah, laundry. You know the big machines that spit out water? You use 'em to clean dirty clothes -- sorta like the ones you're wearing right now." The playful tone was back, as was Kyle's friendlier smirk. He acted so differently from the Kyle Lewis that had confronted him at the Lover's Luau; that date party felt like it was ages ago.

"But that'll take too long. A-and I don't want to put you out--"

"Oliver," Kyle said, his voice more reassuring this time, "it's okay. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't want to." Flashing him a smile, he disappeared around the corner, and shut a door off from the bedroom, leaving Oliver holding the towel in his hands. Hesitant at first, he took off his mud-soaked clothes, mindful to keep them off the carpet. He used the towel to clean off his legs. With trepidation, he stripped off his boxers, holding the semi-dirty towel up to make sure he was sufficiently covered. His heart racing, he looked up to see if Kyle had returned. In the background, he heard the toilet flushing and the sink running water. He quickly wrapped the towel around him just as the door opened.

A light flipped on and there was a rustling, with metal scraping against each other and drawers opening.

"Just realize that I'm not as big as you are, Oliver."

"That's all right."

"Yeah, well..." Kyle said, emerging with a shirt, workout shorts and a pair of boxers, but he froze.

Oliver realized Kyle was staring at his towel-clad body.

A moment passed. With a shake of his head, Kyle snapped out of whatever trance he was in and handed the clothes over. "These might be a bit tight." He smiled awkwardly as Oliver took them. He didn't look away, not immediately. "Right... okay. I'll, uh, just give you a little privacy. Bathroom's around the corner if you need it. You can take a shower if you need to."

Oliver watched Kyle turn and head toward the kitchen. He concealed himself in a corner of the bedroom and started putting on the spare clothes. He could hear things happening in the other section of the studio -- the refrigerator opening, cabinets shutting, plates clinking together.

"Kyle, before I forget, thanks for the clothes."

"No prob. You want a sandwich?"

"S-sure." Oliver's voice was muffled as his head was caught in Kyle's shirt. He inhaled, feeling his jaw tighten as he took in the scent. Dammit, he didn't know how he knew it, but the shirt smelled like Kyle. If he wasn't already crazy, then he was getting there. Hanging out with Kyle alone with no roommates or dorm mates or frat brothers around to interrupt them was not going to help the situation. In fact, it was going to make things substantially worse.

Kyle's clothes were snug on him, but not totally uncomfortable. When he emerged fully dressed, he smiled sheepishly at his friend. He raised his arms, posing to let Kyle see him. "Well," he said, feeling awkward, "do I, uh, look good?"

There was a small shift in the room, and Oliver noticed Kyle's eyes travel down his body. He felt something like an electric charge jolt through his chest.

"Yeah," Kyle replied, his voice grainy. "You look pretty good. The, uh, shirt," he said, coughing to clear his throat, "is a little... uh, a tight fit."

"It is pretty snug, I guess."

Kyle nodded and handed over a plate. Oliver laughed; it was a turkey sandwich, mayo, and chips.

"Turkey sandwich? Just like the ones I always get, huh?"

He noticed that Kyle's cheeks reddened. Very subtly, but Oliver was certain he saw him blush. "What can I say? Turkey's cheap."

"I wasn't really expecting all this." Oliver sat down at the opposite end of the couch, eating his sandwich and managing to smile through each bite. He watched Kyle clear the coffee table, shuffling a big manila envelope to the bottom of the stack of papers and stuffing them into his bag. Oliver raised his eyebrow. "Big important papers, huh?"

Kyle shrugged. "Just some assignments and a project I'm working on. Wanted to give you some more room. That's all. Go ahead and kick your feet up."

"Well, thanks. But I didn't think I'd be getting sandwiches, clean clothes and all this charity from you, not after the, you know... that date party."

They lapsed into silence for a few seconds. "Would it make you feel better to know that I almost kicked your ass out there?"

Oliver chuckled. "What stopped you?"

Kyle brought his sandwich up to his mouth. "The mud got you first," he said, with a glint in his eye.

* * *

This whole thing was driving him insane.

There had been no apology from either boy about what had happened at the Lover's Luau. Not that either Oliver or Kyle would've known exactly where to begin with apologies or discussing the argument in Kyle's dorm that preceded the luau. Oliver could barely face the issue himself. It was the ever-present elephant in the room; they danced around it but never addressed it. He had no idea how to talk about, or even think about, the hook-ups in Kyle's room last year. Many times when the memories of what they did together returned, the image of his mom and dad came to him. He could see, with painful clarity, his father telling him that he didn't love him anymore. That he was incapable of loving his son because he kissed guys.

He assumed Kyle had gotten over it; he never mentioned the dorm room argument. And if it had been bugging Kyle, no one could stop him from saying so.

They spent the following weeks together, filled with lunches and dinners and studying over at Kyle's. Workouts at the gym and the occasional party with the other frat guys. Oliver refused to define how hanging out with Kyle made him feel, but he knew that being with Kyle's made him happy and leaving Kyle's made him sad. And in the times between, when his summer classes weren't occupying his mind, Oliver anticipated the next time he would see his friend with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

He tried to think about girls that he saw in his classes. A couple had even flirted with him. But every time he was confronted by soft hair and curves and blushing cheeks, all he could think about was Kyle.

Kyle... Kyle... _Dammit_!

It was always about Kyle.

Could he blame the heat? Too many classes? Or was he simply confused because his friend was gay and he had been kissing him and he reveled in the way those lips felt on his? Was he remembering those fingers tracing over his face, smiling at him like he was the only person left on earth? Or did he enjoy that unwavering ability Kyle had to see right through him and know exactly who he was?

It was too much to feel these things that he couldn't define. And when he could no longer take the back-and-forth, the internal bickering about the nature of his feelings, Oliver found himself standing in front of Kyle's door late one Friday in the middle of summer.

Kyle answered the door. "Hey, I wasn't expecting -- dude, you okay?"

Breathing shakily, Oliver quickly scanned the apartment over Kyle's shoulder. "No one's here, are they?"

"No. Something wrong?"

He swallowed and stepped inside. Kyle shuffled aside to let him through. Oliver shut the door behind him, keeping his back to Kyle as he locked the door. A hand grasped his shoulder, firmly but gently.

"Oliver? What's going on?"

He spun around. "P-please Kyle... I just... d-don't say anything. Please?" Before Kyle could ask any more questions, Oliver pulled him forward and kissed him.

Instead of getting angry and pushing him away, Kyle was right there with him, filling him, exploring him, twisting his head for greater access. Teeth bumped as both boys searched for the right angles, the right amount of tongue, but it didn't matter. Oliver could feel Kyle's hands on his cheeks, using his mouth and his lips to get as close as he could to him. As for Oliver, he didn't deny anything to Kyle. He cupped the back of his head and let his fingers glide through dark brown, choppy hair. Although Oliver was inexperienced with kissing anyone like this, it didn't seem to bother Kyle, who was walking backward toward his bedroom, tugging on Oliver's shirt, coaxing him to follow. His head swayed left and right, sucking on Oliver's lower lip, his tongue running along Oliver's chin.

Oliver needed no persuasion. He walked, practically ran to the bed as well. His hands found that illicit patch of skin on Kyle's torso, except this time, they moved up and took with it his shirt. They stopped, Kyle's hands still on his cheeks.

"How much have you drunk tonight?"

Oliver took two seconds to regain his breath. "I... haven't. Nothing. None."

Kyle's eyes roamed over Oliver's face. Soundlessly, he dove forward, locking their lips together as he pulled off Oliver's shirt and doffed it to the side. There was a jolt as he felt his bare chest touching Kyle's, which was warmer and smaller than his, but slender and lean, strong in many ways. A shiver went up his spine, a moan escaped that increased in volume as Kyle kissed down his neck, as his hands spread across his shoulder blades and moved down his spine.

They were together on the bed again. Kyle rolled Oliver onto his back and his hands ran down Oliver's chest. He continued to kiss Oliver, who matched the effort with equal enthusiasm. Hands and mouths roamed over skin, exploring, tasting, lapping. As Kyle focused his attentions on Oliver's neck, he realized Kyle right hand was moving lower... and lower....

And lower....

His crotch, already actively interested in what they were doing to each other, sprang to life. However, before Oliver could pull away in shock more than any desire to quit, Kyle did it first.

"You want it?"

Oliver thought his heart exploded; he wasn't ready for that. God yes, he wanted it. The kissing, the bare torsos, the making out -- it all felt so damn good. But always in the back of his head were his parents. Two pair of eyes that had watched him grow up looking through him, like he was a ghost. Like he didn't exist. That was what waited for him if Kyle's hand traveled any further south. Besides that, he couldn't fathom another guy's hand -- Kyle's hand -- actually touching him. _Stroking_ him. Playing with him.

Not yet.

His crotch twitched, as did Kyle's lips; Oliver didn't know whether Kyle had felt the shift of his groin. Taking another deep breath, he struggled to stay calm; however, his voice shook. "I... I, uh, I think--"

"Yeah?"

"I need to rest. Just for a little bit. I-is that all right?"

Kyle's smile fell. He rested his forehead on Oliver's shoulder, allowing his jagged breathing to normalize.

"Didn't mean to pressure you--"

"I know. I'm pretty exhausted." He spoke to quickly, striving to sound convincing. The flattened line of Kyle's mouth told him he was not, but he placed a kiss on Oliver's shoulder and grazed his brow with the tips of his fingers.

Oliver said nothing else. He flipped over, shutting his eyes, pretending to fall asleep. But he allowed a small smile to play across his lips as a blanket went over him. He had to admit it felt nice when Kyle's arm circled around him. He tucked it under his own arm and smiled, feeling Kyle pressed tight against his own body.


	11. Part Eleven

**A/N: **We're turning this one up to M, folks.

To say I'm nervous about this chapter is an understatement. I don't write smut; I love reading it, but it makes me very uncomfortable to write about body parts graphically unless it's in dialogue. Also, I'm not gay nor am I a man, but I'm trying to write something that is sexy and feels somewhat realistic with the feelings, actions and behavior of the characters. I hope I've achieved those goals here, because this is really the only way I feel comfortable writing sexual intimacy, especially between two men.

Rated R for not-too-graphic sexual situations, including frottage and guys touching guy parts. Oh, and language, of course. Kyle has a dirty mouth!

* * *

**Part Eleven:**

_**Don't Slow Down**_

**Matt & Kim**

Kyle and Oliver had just found a table in the LU cafeteria. As per his routine, Oliver dutifully removed the little cup of Thousand Island dressing from his tray first, so as to avoid spillage. Then his perfectly combined salad, his turkey sandwich with a fairly healthy dollop of light mayonnaise and a pickle spear, his Diet Coke, and, last but not least, his small plate filled with the cafeteria's rather decent chocolate cake. Kyle observed him, slowly rubbing his lip with his finger thoughtfully.

Oliver rolled his eyes, but grinned at the same time. "What?"

"I'm just wonderin' what it would take to completely throw you off _this_," Kyle swirled his finger at the spread, "little ritual ya do every. Single. Day."

Oliver's eyes narrowed. "Why would you try to do that?"

"Because I bet if I switched your Thousand Island dressing for, oh let's say Italian? It'd drive you crazy." Kyle smirked, biting his bottom lip. He added in his raspy drawl, "And I kinda like drivin' you crazy."

Oliver pursed his lips together; it was risky, letting Kyle talk to him like this, practically giving him carte blanche to flirt in public. But it was nice. Fun. He let Kyle say whatever he wanted, without stepping over _The Line_. Kyle knew what _The Line_ was, without being told. And if _The Line_ was crossed, then those things they did at night together would stop. Most likely... probably.

Oliver wasn't ready to be so absolute about any possible outcome.

"Dude! Lewis, you completely, totally rule!"

Both of them turned around at the booming yell. Trevor Abbott barreled up to them, holding his fist out to Kyle, who tapped it back with his. Kyle pointed at the exuberant sophomore.

"Y' got it, then?"

"Three-point-oh-nine, just like you promised. The car's still mine, and that trip to Padre's still on." He raised his arms triumphantly. "The GPA gods have shined down upon me! I shall crush their puny heads in my hands!"

Oliver laughed, if not a touch incredulously, at the showboating sophomore. Abbott was a member of _Phi Delta Tau_ and a massive, burly blond guy to boot. Normally, he was an ass to guys if they were from different houses. Thus, this overly enthusiastic public display of platonic affection aimed toward Kyle was highly suspicious.

At least he wasn't jealous. Not really, if truth be told. Similar occurrences had been happening over the last few days, ever since grades were sent out. Abbott was the sixth, or seventh, person to approach Kyle this week. Oliver wasn't sure why the students were doing this to Kyle, but he didn't ask about it. Nor did Kyle offer any explanations.

But he wasn't jealous. He shouldn't be jealous at all. He was Kyle's friend... no matter what happened at night. When they were alone at Kyle's apartment.

_Dammit_.

"Easy there, Thor," Kyle replied, interrupting Oliver's thoughts. "That's still a B-minus. I can get you to a three-point-five. Hell, I'll bet I can boot you up to a three-point-eight-nine."

Abbott scoffed. "Whatever. The check's in the mail, bud!" With a couple more finger guns aimed directly at Kyle, Abbott bounded over to his table. Oliver stared at the retreating figure. He decided he needed some answers.

"What in the world was that about?"

Kyle shrugged, but a mischievous spark flashed in his eyes. "I gave him some help in a few classes."

"What? Like tutoring?"

Kyle snorted in mid-sip of his Coke. "Yeah. Like tutoring."

"So all the other guys and girls who kept yelling out random numbers at you -- you tutored them too?"

"Yeah. I tutored them." Kyle wiped his mouth and leaned forward, his expression quite conspiratorial. "Look, that guy -- Abbott -- he had a deal with his dad: get a 3.0 or better and he keeps his Porsche and that trip to Padre with the rest of his house."

Oliver scratched his chin. "And 'the check's in the mail'?"

"You don't think I'm stupid, do you? I don't give them my time for free. I tutor them and they pay me. He owes me for the help I gave."

"Hm. Guess you answered all my questions."

Kyle stared at Oliver, his eyes narrowed. "You don't believe me."

"Well, he is Trevor Abbott, and he's got a reputation for being a jerk. I'm just surprised he wasn't all--"

"All what?"

Oliver sighed and searched for the right words.

"You mean all asshole and Captain Caveman and that he was more..." Kyle dropped his voice low as he mocked Abbott's WWF-like tone, '''_Lewis rocks my world -- WHOO!_'"

Oliver laughed. "Yeah. That's what I mean."

Kyle cleared his throat, sat back in his chair, and waved his hand. "Forget Abbott. Tutorin's done until his parents get fed up with his bad grades and he asks for my help again so they don't take his Porsche or whatever. It does means one thing good, though."

"Oh yeah," Oliver said, wiping his mouth and leaning forward onto the table. "What's that?"

Kyle grinned cheekily. "Dinner's on me tonight."

* * *

His foot knocked over a couple of beer bottles next to the couch. He probably also kicked the now-empty pizza box that lay beneath the coffee table. But the only thing Oliver noticed was Kyle, shirtless and straddling him, kissing him hard and passionately. His hands clenched the arm of the sofa directly above Oliver's head, gripping it for dear life.

Oliver himself was _sans_ shirt, and he took the opportunity to touch Kyle's chest, running his hand over ridges of muscle, feeling and tasting his skin. He knew Kyle hated him drinking before they fooled around. But it was better for him. Alcohol helped blur the faces of his parents from his mind. The more he drank, the less he saw them.

He also found out he was more willing to go further with Kyle. The guilt would come later -- that he was sure of. But right now, filled with beer and pizza, feeling the weight of Kyle above him and his tight, solid body surrounding his, Oliver wanted more.

They were in a clinch, Kyle's hands pressed against his face, their tongues tangled together. Oliver shifted his hips, lifting them up slightly and he felt them rub against Kyle's inner thigh, so close to his--

His mouth still on Oliver's, Kyle froze in mid-kiss. "_Oliver_..." His voice was low, husky, his breath seemed to be trapped on each syllable.

He said nothing. Instead, he rolled his hips again. It was like instinct, moving this way against Kyle's body. He knew Kyle could feel him through his shorts, his boxers; each time he bucked his hips into Kyle's, both of them gasped and moaned at the contact.

Kyle kept his gaze strong on Oliver's face and brought his leg over so he laid at full length next to Oliver's side on the couch. His right arm curved around Oliver's head... and, slowly, shakily, Kyle's left hand traveled down his body. Oliver stopped breathing for a moment; Kyle's fingers unbuckled his shorts. The zipper to his fly fell. And the folds of the thick khaki fabric opened.

"D'ya trust me?"

"Kyle--"

"I won't do it unless you want me to." His hand rested on the elastic band of his boxers. Oliver licked his lips; briefly, he wondered if he had had the foresight to put on underwear that was subdued in tone and color, not one of his stupid cartoon-y ones that he got from his mom. His hand lay flat on Kyle's chest, his fingers trembled and flexed as he let the realization of what they were about to do sink in.

"I've wanted to try it. I've never done it to another guy before." Kyle lowered his head and kissed him. "I wanted to see how you'd react."

What Kyle was proposing was something he had only ever done to himself, and although he started out touching himself while thinking about the pretty girls in his classes, usually what pulled him over that edge was imagining the hotter guys on campus. And, since starting at LU, his favorite inspiration was Kyle Lewis. Consequently, he very rarely ever did it. He thought something was wrong with the way he was wired. But now, plied with beer and the intoxicating rush of having a shirtless Kyle splayed over his body, Oliver found his courage. Although his throat felt like it was closed off, Oliver rasped in a hoarse whisper--

"_Do it._"

He thanked the alcohol; the beer had given him just the right push to go over that edge.

His heart raced as his boxers separated from his body and a hand that wasn't his own eased past the loose cotton fabric. Kyle slid his hand down lower, but his eyes remained on Oliver's face, watching him react, his lips curving up subtly into a very small smile. There was nothing teasing or vulgar about that smile; it was filled with wonder, curiosity. It was filled with affection.

Kyle moved his hand down lower... and lower still. The tips of his fingers brushed against sensitive flesh. Oliver jolted, but Kyle's body, lying flush with his own, kept him pinned to the couch. Physically, the touching was too soft to be defined as a collision, but Oliver's insides burst as if organs and muscles hit each other at full speed. His mind went blank. The only things that existed were him, Kyle, and Kyle's hand, now circling him, nervously trying to find a good rhythm. His brain registered a single thought: that hand did not belong to him. It was scary. Frightening. And exciting.

_God_, it was exciting! And the more Kyle touched him, the more the thrill overtook the fear.

He moaned, and Kyle trembled. All rational thought flew from his mind as Kyle's shaking fingers touched and teased him. It was unsteady at first, and it was all so new to Oliver, and he knew it was new to Kyle, but because it was Kyle touching him, he almost lost it. Almost.

Kyle adjusted and found the right speed, the right pressure. Oliver keened; although he had never been in this position with another guy, his hips arched into the air, wanting more, _needing_ more. Their foreheads touched, and Kyle continued to work, increasing speed and pressure. Oliver bucked, his body rolling into Kyle's hand. He realized his eyes were shut, so he opened them. He could see Kyle's shoulder and upper arm, moving in time with his hand and with Oliver's body.

_Oh God... for the love of... FUCK!!_

He yelled out something, he wasn't sure what, and somewhere he heard Kyle's stifled moans, his gasps for air. Oliver's hips shot up one last time -- and he felt himself bursting, his hands clawing at Kyle's back, and something warm spreading over his boxers.

Oliver froze, his back still arched, his chest vibrating. He couldn't come down from this. Hell, he could barely see what was going on; there were spots of color and light filling his vision.

"Y-you... okay?"

Trepidation filled Kyle's voice. Hearing him brought Oliver back to earth. He lowered his body down to the couch and forced himself to return to his senses. "I am. Y-yeah." He turned to face his boyf-, no... _Kyle_, who looked at him with heated eyes and a face that wanted to smile, but held back for some reason.

"Like it?"

Oliver couldn't answer; he wasn't coherent enough to formulate a reply. Instead, he bobbed his head up and down, exactly twice. He hoped that would be enough to convey exactly how much the experience had gotten to him. Slowly coming out of the haze, he realized Kyle's hand was still on _him_. He trembled; Kyle rubbed his thumb lazily in circles. That was too much; the sensations that accompanied Kyle's thumb, paired with that finish -- Oliver couldn't take it. He was also starting to lose his buzz. Any second, his parents' faces would return and he'd see them and they would know what their son had done--

He pushed off of Kyle, a little roughly. He reached out to steady himself and he rested his hand on his chest. "Please... uh, c-can you st-stop the... the touching?" he asked in between gasps.

Kyle retracted his hand immediately. "Sorry. I didn't know I was..." He chuckled. "I guess I wasn't paying attention." He cleared his throat and scanned the floor, picking up a towel that was lying next to the coffee table. "Here. You can clean yourself up. I'll just be in the shower for a few minutes." He untangled himself from Oliver's body and got up, very slowly, clutching at his own shorts. "You can use it after I'm done."

For his part, Oliver kept his attention focused on his shorts, his crotch, and trying to wipe off the mess. Not to mention sorting through the emotions that flooded through him. He felt so many things right now. Happiness, pleasure, fear, excitement. And guilt. Massive guilt. When he had been in that moment -- _God_! He couldn't think of anything better. The touching, that hands that were not his, the rubbing and stroking, making him feel so damn good!

And it was Kyle. _Kyle_! He wanted to be the one to make him feel good. It turned Oliver on that Kyle, who could be so frank and sarcastic and open, who could be both nervous and assertive about what he wanted, who could touch him in many different ways... Kyle was interested in _him_.

That it was a guy who made him feel like this, though, troubled him. It troubled him so much.

"Hey."

Oliver looked up. Kyle leaned against the wall that led into the bedroom. "You can leave if you need to. I don't want you to, but if you need space, I understand." Oliver opened his mouth, about to answer, but Kyle didn't wait for him to reply. He disappeared around the corner. The bathroom door closed and locked, and in the darkness of the apartment, a light clicked on, shining out from underneath it.

********


	12. Part Twelve

**A/N:** Thank you so much. Here, I'm amping up their sexual relationship -- not too much, but, well, you'll see -- before they move into the frat house. Which explains this chapter. The smut-gates have been opened, apparently. I do hope you enjoy.

Rated R for explicit sexual situations (more explicit than the previous chapter), swearing, and Kyle's naughty mouth.

* * *

**Part Twelve:**

_**Live Bed Show**_

**Pulp**

It was the last week of summer classes. The mood of the student body was conflicted; everyone seemed to be in a state of subdued chaos, hunched over books and papers, sneaking in coffee, pastries, and fruit to the library and lectures, whispering to themselves with highlighters and pens sticking out of their mouths and from behind their ears. Voices were low, chatting and giggling. The sharp clicks of rapid typing over laptop keyboards punctuated the frazzled quiet.

Kyle and Oliver staked out a table in LU's library. Kyle sat on one side, chewing on his pen cap, moving his lips silently as he went through his notes. His Comparative Anatomy and Psychology II textbooks surrounded him. Oliver was typing away on his keyboard on his Computer Programming Level II final project. Every once in a while he was interrupted by a small kick to his shins from Kyle--

"Dude, relax."

"I'm trying to type."

Kyle smirked. "Hasn't that keyboard suffered enough?" Oliver stared at his friend.

"What're you talking about?"

"You're stabbing away at it like it just killed your dog. We're in a library, Fish. Type quieter."

"For your information, 'quieter' isn't even a word, Kyle."

It was a slip, a tiny one, but Kyle heard Oliver use his first name, which was something that Oliver never did. Not out in public, not with other people around. In public, they were "Fish" and "Lewis", fraternity brothers, study buddies who poked and prodded and teased each other with typical boy-man bravado. The others in their house joked about their apparent "bromance" with each other, and as far as they knew, that's all it was. A friendship forged from the brotherhood of fraternity.

However, when the sun went down and there was no one else, they were simply Kyle and Oliver. That studio apartment, 105-B on Maple Drive, was not only Kyle's but Oliver's place as well. He slept next to Kyle, often times drunk, fewer times sober. Their poking and prodding and teasing took on a far different meaning when they were together and alone. Free from school, the world and parents who would never approve.

Upon hearing his first name come out of Oliver's mouth, Kyle paused. He regarded Oliver with an expression that could only be described as slightly bewildered but happy. Oliver watched him, his own gaze not wavering. He remained calm even though he nearly betrayed that boundary he had imposed on himself. Kyle knew, without ever being told, what that boundary meant, and he didn't cross that line himself, not after what happened in his dorm room so many months ago.

It was Kyle who broke the silence with a crooked grin. "Their ain't no laws against makin' up words. So, what're you gonna do about it, Future Officer Fish? Arrest me?"

Oliver smiled, as he did any time Kyle teased him about becoming a cop. Feeling the tension ease, Oliver returned to studying, holding his book up to hide his face. But his smile widened whenever he felt Kyle's foot gently graze his shin.

* * *

There were only a few days left before Kyle had to move out of 105-B. Cardboard boxes were stacked high in the apartment labeled with either Oliver Fish's slanted, precise handwriting or Kyle's physician-ready chicken scrawl. The studio was halfway packed up; some of the furniture and things were going into storage before the start of next semester. Not that either boy noticed the boxes, or the overall chaos.

Both were stripped to their boxers, both sweaty from exertion. They kissed, their mouths wide, pressing into the others', desperate and consuming. Their hands were hard at work, playing with and stroking each other. Oliver had taken a couple of shots of whiskey, followed by some lager left over in Kyle's fridge. Kyle had been reluctant at first, because Oliver and he had been drinking.

Any objections had been stifled as soon as Oliver's lips touched his.

By the time the backs of Kyle's knees hit the edge of the mattress, shirts were already off and on the floor, as were their pants. Oliver crawled forward, still kissing Kyle, his body on top of his. He wasn't sloppy drunk, but Oliver had consumed enough alcohol to leave behind his parents, his guilt, and to awaken something inside of him.

Desire. _Want_. And... something else.

"Oh... God. Fuck! P-please, don't stop."

Wrapping his left arm around his slender body, hearing Kyle's voice, grainy and hoarse from arousal, Oliver lost himself completely in the experience. His head fell into the crook of Kyle's neck and shoulder kissing... licking... sucking. He could hear Kyle's moans, the deep inhalations of his breath. He thrust his hips in the air, moving in tandem with Oliver's hand, which was working underneath Kyle's boxers. Up and down... up and down. Kyle unraveled underneath him.

Oliver wasn't used to being the one in charge but he was at this moment. Drunk or not, damn if he wasn't enjoying in his newfound authority. Moreso than that, what Oliver liked most was Kyle, watching him as he touched him. Kyle was speechless after a few strokes, which was a strange experience. It was amazing that he was here, doing this to Kyle Lewis -- who could hardly go five minutes without some sarcastic comment or derisive gesture, who knew who he was and what he wanted. He could make Kyle writhe under his ministrations. He, Oliver Fish, was the one person, the one guy in all of Llanview, who could get to Lewis like that.

Oliver would've never allowed himself to let go like this... but that damn alcohol! And the more he was with Kyle, the more he wanted to push things. The ballsier he got.

_Speaking of ballsy_... Oliver wanted to laugh; Kyle was rubbing off on him.

He felt nails digging into his arms. Oliver held Kyle tighter to his body, stroking him, the tempo steady but increasing. As Kyle arched into his hand, Oliver sped up, his fist tightening just a little bit more. He knew Kyle was close; he could feel him pulsing... any minute now...

He shifted his position without removing his busy hand, and Oliver used his free palm to cup Kyle, massaging him in tandem--

"_Oh shit-Ohshit-OHSHIT... OLIVER_!!" Kyle almost shot up off the bed, panting, sweating, whimpering. He froze in mid-gape. His mouth and eyes were all wide open, all unmoving.

Oliver's hand remained on his crotch; he smiled at his achievement, but he wondered how he was going to clean up. He slowly retracted himself as Kyle fell back in his bed.

"_Damn_... damn-damn-_damn_." Struggling to regain his composure, Kyle sat up, groggy and panting. "Thanks."

Oliver found a towel and wiped off his fingers. Smiling shakily, feeling slightly nervous and pretty drunk, he handed it over. "Need this?" he asked, his words slurring. Kyle took it to attend to himself.

"You were really, _really_... that was pretty outstanding."

Grinning, Oliver sat back, letting his head lazily fall to his sides. "Was fun. Doin' that to you. And, um... watchin' you."

Kyle threw the towel to the side and straddled Oliver's lap. Oliver brought his hands up to Kyle's sides, flexing them, still feeling _Kyle_ all over his palms. Through half-lidded eyes, he forced his head to steady and looked straight at his friend. Kyle had that expression on his face, one that meant he was up to something.

"It's your turn, Future Officer Fish."

"My turn?" He laughed a little; of course, Kyle would pick right now to be so inscrutable.

His eyes, still hazy from the liquor and the romp, widened as Kyle's hand disappeared around him. He found Oliver's boxers; he slipped his hand beneath them and started touching him slowly, agonizingly.

Oliver's eyes fluttered shut. "Wh-what're you do--"

He felt Kyle's lips against his, moving down his chin, his neck. "Where's the fun in telling you that?" He continued stroking Oliver.

"Wh-wha- _Mmm_... feels good."

"What I'm gonna do to you? That's a surprise," Kyle whispered, laughing as he spoke. "But you're gonna like it. A lot." Oliver opened his eyes and watched as Kyle moved down his chest, trailing kisses--

And Kyle started sliding off Oliver's boxers. He jolted up, scared... and aroused. He was about to be totally naked with Kyle. Although he perked up at the thought, this was something he hadn't prepared for. This was beyond everything else that they had done. If clothes were still on, even if he just wore underwear, he could somehow convince himself that these were just random hookups, making out here and there, with a little exploring thrown into the mix. That was how he convinced himself things were cool between them.

But full-on naked? With _Kyle_? That was intimate, special. It was also a place he wasn't ready to go.

Although Kyle's head, presently hovering over his naval and slowly moving toward his crotch, made him forget all of his inhibitions.

"You cool with this?"

"I-I've just... we haven't really done stuff totally, uh, naked."

"Well, I can't exactly suck you off if you have your boxers on."

Hearing that, Oliver practically burst. He clutched at Kyle's shoulder, as the only thing that filled his brain, pushing everything else out, was the vision of Kyle's head, instead of his hand, bobbing up and down--

A whimper escaped him.

"So, what do you say? Can I, Oliver?" Kyle's hands were on his boxers, ready to strip him completely bare.

A split second thought flashed inside his head. In that moment, his want, his need to keep this going, to know what Kyle was about to do to him, and how that would feel, trampled over any sense of propriety he might have had left.

"P-pull 'em down to my knees. Leave 'em on, though."

That was all Kyle needed to hear. He tugged Oliver's underwear down. One more glance back up, and there was no mistaking it; Oliver caught Kyle's cheeky smile. He winked and he lowered his head. He kissed further down and finally took Oliver completely inside his mouth.

It was better than he could have ever imagined.

* * *

It was the morning after. He woke up, groggy, slightly nauseous, and unfocused from the previous night. Kyle was next to him, lying on his stomach, snoring loudly. Slowly climbing out of bed so as not to disturb him, Oliver dressed himself, wondering whether to stay or split; he was no stranger to either option, and if he did choose to leave, he was certain Kyle would understand. After all, he had understood the other times Oliver left before he got up.

He was looking for his other shoe when he saw a manila envelope lying on the patch of linoleum in front of the door. It must have fallen through the mail slot this morning -- the envelope was big, and fairly bulky. On closer inspection, he saw no stamps or address on it; instead, there was only "_KYLE LEWIS_" written across the front, along with the apartment number. And it was sealed, taped around its edges. Oliver was turning it back and forth in his hands, when he felt a hand slap his shoulder.

"That for me? _Buddy_?"

There was no mistaking the edge in Kyle's voice. Oliver turned to see his friend, clad in his boxers leaning forward. With his other hand, he swiped the envelope from Oliver and tossed it onto the coffee table. He sniffed a shirt from the floor, shrugged, and pulled it on.

"So, you want to tell me what's in that envelope?" Oliver managed to keep himself sounding normal.

Kyle walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. "Why should I tell you?" He popped a couple of aspirin into his mouth and chased it with a big gulp of orange juice. "Far be it from me to keep you from leaving, which you were clearly were. In a hurry too." His tone dripped with irritation, bordering on anger.

Oliver exhaled sharply, feeling a headache coming on as well as feeling slightly annoyed at Kyle's capricious attitude. Why the hell he was choosing to be pissed off if Oliver left early today -- when he had been okay when Oliver left in the past -- was beyond him.

"I didn't want to wake you."

His eyes narrowing into slits, Kyle tossed food on the counter. "I'm making breakfast. You can stay or you can go. But if you stay, I want you to _want_ to stay. Don't stay because you feel guilty that I caught you leaving."

Oliver shut his eyes. "I want to stay..." Unfortunately, his voice sounded weak.

He heard a sigh. "Last night wasn't good for you, then?"

Oliver's eyes flew open and he walked briskly into the kitchen. "Last night was... it _was_ good. Great. But it was also... c-can I have an aspirin too?" He rubbed his forehead as Kyle handed him two, which he promptly popped into his mouth, followed by a swig of juice. Gathering his thoughts, Oliver watched Kyle's face, which registered a mix of emotions.

"What're we doing? Why am I over here, at night, and not out with some girl?"

Kyle sneered and turned on his stove. The crackle of grease and the smell of bacon filled the apartment. Despite his headache, Oliver felt his stomach grumble.

"Because, _Oliver Fish_, you _like_ doing things with me. You _like_ dudes." Kyle wasn't looking at him. Instead, he flipped bacon over in the pan. "And I happen to be a dude, so... _Ta da_!" Kyle flung his hands out, still holding the bacon-greased spatula in his right hand. "Does that answer your question? Or do you need a Power Point--"

"Kyle, come on."

"Or charts? Or maybe pictures, huh? Something more visual."

"Kyle--"

"I do some mean stick figures."

"Kyle." Oliver replied sternly. He grasped Kyle's wrist, applying just enough pressure to get him to stop ranting. Kyle shook his head and jerked his arm away.

"I'm that disgusting to you? What we're doing's so disgusting, you're wondering why you can't be attracted to girls?" He picked up the last couple pieces of bacon and put them on a paper towel to drain. "Well, that just makes me feel all _swell_ and stuff."

"Kyle."

He looked at Oliver, his nostrils flaring slightly. Taking an egg in his hand, he cracked it on the edge of the pan and stared at him. "How d'ya like your eggs?"

The question made Oliver pause. Blinking, he stammered, "Uh... sunny side up, I guess."

With one hand, Kyle opened the shell, and a perfectly formed egg yolk started sizzling in the pan. Then he pursed his lips together, took the greasy spatula, and crushed the egg yolk, scrambling it thoroughly, his expression saying he could give a fuck what Oliver liked.

"So, scrambled then?"

Oliver plopped back down in the chair, his hands rubbing his face and scratching his head. He didn't want to start a fight, but a fight was something he couldn't avoid. "I told you about my parents, didn't I? Their church, the town I grew up in?"

He saw the muscles in Kyle's jaw shift, flexing as Oliver spoke. But he didn't reply.

"Look, I... can't be... l-like you." He looked away. "I've told you before. I just can't be--"

"Except when you're drunk," Kyle shot back. "Except when _you_ want to kiss me. Except when I do things to you." He threw the last pieces of bacon onto the plates. Two forks clanked down.

"If my parents found out what I've been doing, they'd be gone. Out of my life. Just like that!" Oliver snapped his fingers. "And I love them. They watched me grow up. They've been there for me every step of the way. I can't lose them... I-I don't know what's going on with me, but if I lost them, I wouldn't have anything!" He didn't mean to let Kyle witness this outburst, but he was hung over. And the way Kyle needled him compounded his guilt, making him feel far worse. Although he now felt equal parts guilt toward his parents and Kyle.

When he looked back up, Kyle was hovering in front of him, two plates in front of him. His face was stiff, his lips pressed tightly together, stifling what he wanted to say. Oliver let his hand drag down his face. At the same time, he noticed Kyle's face soften.

Sighing, shaking his head, Kyle placed a plate in front of Oliver; the eggs were a perfect sunny side up. He sat down in other empty chair, the scrambled eggs from earlier on his own plate.

"Thanks," Oliver muttered.

"Don't mention it... Fish." 


	13. Part Thirteen

**A/N:** Still rated R, although the dialogue here's more explicit than anything the boys actually do. And language. All Kyle of course -- if this were real life, he'd be swearing his cute li'l behind off. Who here agrees?

* * *

**Part Thirteen:**

_**When Did Your Heart Go Missing**_

**Rooney**

Oliver Fish set the box down on top of his desk, which was in his new room. KAΔ was still on probationary status, and said status affected its membership. Not much, but enough that the upperclassmen could choose to have their own rooms, as the house was bigger than the current membership required. The sophomore class, however, was required to roommate up. Right now, Oliver was alone, and he was still waiting for his roommate.

He heard voices of the other guys ribbing each other, being vulgar and loud; their voices filtered through the hall. Music also blared from one of the rooms. Beastie Boys? Yep, it was definitely The Beastie Boys; he could just make out the opening beats and wails of _Sabotage_. The atmosphere was lively and fun, but it wasn't affecting Oliver. As he unpacked, he kept looking over his shoulders, checking the hallways behind him. He had one ear turned on the commotion, listening for his voice, waiting for _him_ to come by.

Worse yet, he realized that he was going to continue feeling restless and unhappy until he saw Kyle Lewis. No matter how they left things the last time they saw each other.

It had been almost two weeks since he had last seen Kyle. He had left after finishing his breakfast over at Kyle's place without any conversation about Oliver trying to sneak out the apartment, or the envelope in front of Kyle's door, or what had happened the night before. He had made a few feeble attempts to call Kyle, but each time he typed out the phone number, his thumb hovered over the "Talk" button.

And every time, he flipped the phone shut without making any calls.

Oliver should have felt relieved. Instead the whole thing agitated and frustrated him, to the point that during his time at home, he was snappier than ever.

"Oliver, are you sure everything's all right at school?" his mom had asked one evening while she was getting dinner on the table.

"Yeah, Mom," he had replied listlessly. "I'm sure."

"You know, maybe you should consider moving back here. Go to school closer to us."

"No. I'm doing fine." He was rubbing his forehead; as she kept bringing up school, it made him think about Kyle. And thinking about Kyle around his parents was never a good thing.

But thinking about leaving school -- and leaving Kyle -- left a pit in his stomach.

"P-plus," he had added, "I've got friends there. I like having a life up there."

"But you don't seem all that happy, sweetie--"

"Mom." His tone was pointed. "I'm fine. And I'll be fine once I move into the frat house." She had smiled back at him and returned to cooking, slightly hurt at Oliver's attitude.

Oliver returned to the present and pulled out his computer from the box. He started connecting the cords to the various jacks behind his desk. His work was automatic, routine because he had done this so many times before. This was a good thing, as his mind once again drifted toward Kyle, wondering where he was... if he was even back on campus... if he was going to come by and see him... and how he'd react when he _did_ see him....

He thought he heard something, like heavy footsteps in his room. He chalked it up to the sound system that was blaring deep bass--

"_FISH_! Yo, Fish-breath!" Someone hit the top of his desk with two thick fists. Oliver jumped, knocking his head on the wood.

"Ow!" He pushed himself back out and looked up. Standing above him was Wade Addington, looking all burly and sullen. "Uh, h-hey. What's going on?"

"Come 'ere," Addington said, motioning with his finger. Oliver stood up and brushed off his clothes. "Just got a call from Krabowsky's parents. He's not coming back this semester."

This was... odd, to say the least. The roommate that he had been paired with for the fall semester, Steve Krabowsky, was an okay guy. Quiet, not too demanding. Oliver thought they'd get along all right because they both tried to prioritize their studying. Plus, he wasn't Kyle Lewis, and therefore Steve wouldn't make for any complicated roommate situations. He didn't think that Krabowsky would've flunked out or burned out or anything. He hoped that nothing had happened to the guy.

"Why? Did something happen?" Oliver asked.

"He's transferring to Penn. Something about them having a better International Areas and Business Program than LU. Whatever... he's an idiot. But even though he's not coming back, you can't have a room by yourself; you don't have enough points."

Oliver shrugged. For a brief moment, he was happy; the idea of having a room all to himself was very appealing. That was then followed by an image of Kyle doing things to him with his mouth that Oliver was fairly sure would get them both kicked out of KAΔ... more of which could happen in the future if he didn't have a roommate.

Not that he was going to encourage that. Not that he expected Kyle to do anything like that to him, not after how he bolted from his apartment... although he certainly wasn't going to object to another blow job in the future. Hell, it wouldn't hurt for him to try it on Kyle--

He adjusted himself, hoping Addington wouldn't notice.

"Hey, I don't mind being in here alone. I can work extra around the house and earn points--"

"Uh-uh, Flounder," Addington said perfunctorily; Oliver frowned. He hated nicknames like that. They were too unoriginal and he was pretty sure he had been called every species of fish under the sun.

"That ain't gonna work. You're bunkin' with Lewis and Griswold."

Oliver gaped disbelievingly at Addington. His stomach swooped, but he wasn't sure if it was out of pleasure that he'd be rooming with Kyle -- or fear that they would be thrown into some awkward situation. And then he remembered that he hadn't spoken to Kyle in several days, not since Kyle had sucked him off.

"What's up your ass, Fish?" Addington's voice brought his attention back. "You and Lewis are tight. I mean, the entire house was shocked when you _didn't_ room with him. This is just the universe's way of righting itself, so there shouldn't be a problem."

"Uh... n-nothing's wrong. I... I just don't know if Lewis and Griswold would want to room with me. They may have a problem--"

"There's no problem."

Both Oliver and Addington turned at the voice coming from just outside the room. Kyle Lewis leaned against the doorframe, his mouth smirking, his eyes dark, sharp like little knives.

"You're comin' with me, Fish. Griswold and I have three beds in our room, 'kay? So, we've got enough space that we won't be in each other's hair. I'll help you pack everything up."

Staring at Kyle's unmoving face for several more moments, Oliver took a deep breath. "Okay then. I guess everything's been decided."

* * *

There were so many chapter meetings and back-to-school activities, formal house dinners, and studying during that first week, that Kyle and Oliver never got a chance to talk by themselves. Plus, their third roommate, Stan Griswold, was always around, always shouting and bellowing about something, always in their face about some party or a new opportunity to drink themselves blind. And despite the fact that Griswold was a reliably heavy sleeper and a thunderously loud snorer, there wasn't any opportunity for them to be alone. To discuss the thing that hung in the air between them, every time they looked at each other...

Until the Saturday their second week back.

Griswold had gone back home, ostensibly to do laundry and get a decent meal from his mom. Oliver shut the door behind him, locked it and approached Kyle. He was on his computer, his textbook in his lap, his head bopping and swaying as he listened to music.

"Hey, uh, Kyle." Oliver tapped his finger on his shoulder. "Can we talk?" Taking his earbuds out, Kyle turned around very slowly. He narrowed his eyes.

"_What_? What could we possibly need t' talk about?" There was that edge in his tone, so like a knife that it could've sliced through Oliver. He needed to do something, say something so Kyle wouldn't stare at him like that. It hurt, seeing such raw anger.

"I-I want to talk with you. And... I want to apologize to you."

This had the effect of disarming Kyle immediately. He twisted out of his chair, standing up to face Oliver head on. "You want to apologize?" He sounded surprised.

Oliver nodded. "I should've called you after I left. We should've talked about what happened that night."

As instantly as Oliver had disarmed him, Kyle's expression hardened. "I'm _shocked_."

"What's so shocking?"

"That you would even deign discussing such a sensitive thing with me." The cynicism was ripe in his voice. "But then ag'in, no one wrote the book, _Blow Job Etiquette 101_!"

"Kyle--"

He shrugged and roughly rubbed his nose. "Maybe they should have. You've already got a great start. How 'bout this? '_Rule 1: If this is your first time to suck dick or to have your dick sucked, make sure to call the person the day after. To reassure them that you're not blowing them the fuck off_!'"

"Do you have to be so... so..."

"So _what_, Fish?"

This was frustrating. He was trying to apologize, but Kyle was too angry or too hurt to hear him. "I'm trying to make this right, Kyle. I know I messed up--"

"_Ag'in_!"

"Yes, yes... again. I want to talk now, though. Or get past it, or--"

"Or what? Do you want to talk it out so the next time you get wasted, I'll be right there, mouth and hands all ready and waiting for you?" Kyle stepped forward, now standing inches away from him. "Or do you want something else?"

Oliver felt his jaw twitch, his chin tremble. Suddenly, he was the one feeling anger. Kyle had all these expectations. He wanted Oliver to be on the same page as him. What that page was, Oliver wasn't ready to say. He couldn't confront it now. But it was the same impasse as before -- Kyle didn't know what he went through. Kyle had no idea that he thought about him and what they did together every single day. That the only way to get through the near-paralyzing guilt that Oliver felt every time they touched and kissed and explored each other was to hide from it and pretend it didn't exist. It felt doubly worse when he thought about Kyle, because he couldn't escape from the fact that he wanted him more and more and more....

"Shit, Oliver. Have you ever been attracted to girls?"

"That's none of your business," Oliver snapped back.

"Yeah. It probably wasn't my business until I had my face plastered to your crotch, with you pleading in my ear, '_Don't stop, Kyle! More, Kyle... Please!'_"

Oliver flung his arms out and he bent forward as he yelled back. "I haven't, okay? Happy? _Satisfied_? I haven't ever been attracted to girls, and you're just making it worse!" He hadn't meant to blurt it out like that, but he was pissed and Kyle was pushing him over the edge.

"What d' ya mean _I'm_ making it worse?"

Oliver grunted and pivoted around. He ran his hands over his head. "I just meant... that I didn't realize I'd never been attracted to girls until I met you."

"What're you saying?" Kyle stepped closer to him. His voice was no longer so sharp. "That you're attracted to me?"

"I'm saying," Oliver replied quietly now, hoping that he could soften the tension even more, "that I'm not sure what I'm feeling, but it's not anything I've ever felt before."

"You've never felt this way about girls? Ever?"

Oliver met Kyle's eyes, so dark still, but glimmering with something. Hope? Expectation? Oliver didn't want to say.

"No. Never. And I'm not sure if I can feel like this about a girl."

That confession seemed to hit Kyle, registering as the last vestiges of anger fell away, leaving only anticipation. The proverbial nail had been hit squarely on its head. Thanks to Kyle, Oliver had spoken out loud what he had been feeling but couldn't say. And saying it made Oliver's chest hurt, his stomach fall to his feet. All he wanted to do was hide under a rock and never come out. Maybe a closet would be more appropriate? He didn't know. He was going to hell anyway, so why not shut himself off from the rest of the world and not drag anyone else into his misery?

"Oliver?"

He bristled slightly at the sound of Kyle's voice, not knowing what was going to come out of his mouth. "Yeah?" he asked in a soft mumble.

Kyle hesitated, but he pressed closer to him. Biting his lip, pondering what to do next, he raised his arm up. It was a slightly jerky motion, as if he was second guessing himself, but finally, his hand lightly cupped Oliver's cheek.

He shut his eyes and leaned into it, as he always did whenever Kyle touched his face. He knew he loved it. His body needed to feel it, and it always surprised him that Kyle could rein in whatever he was feeling at any given point and be like this. Tender. Comforting. Even when Oliver was the source of his anger.

"I've told you before. I like you, Oliver. More than just friends. It's just frustrating that you're holding back."

He had no idea how to respond to this. Instead of using words, Oliver nodded. "I get it. I know. I'll try to be better."

A smile peeked out on Kyle's face, without the cynicism of earlier. "Yeah." Looking at the locked door briefly, he leaned forward and gently kissed the corner of Oliver's mouth. Walking away, he unlocked and opened their room to the rest of the house. " "Kay then. We've got some studying to do, Fish."

Just like that, things seemed to be back to normal... for now.

********


	14. Part Fourteen

**A/N:** This chapter was inspired by the 10/27 show, and was posted on Kishmet (s1 dot zetaboards dot com/Kishmet/index/) in late October. There was this little bit of dialogue that Kyle said to Oliver: _"Build what? Some secret that only a few of our friends can know about? I'm not going through that ag'in, okay?"_ I interpreted this to mean that some people, not a lot, knew or suspected they were together in college. As you can see, I'm trying to incorporate how that might've happened. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled smut next chapter.

Sorry I've been so lax about updating this story on here; I'm actually up to 27 parts already on the Kyle and Oliver fanboard, Kishmet. I'm determined to finish this fic, so I can turn to other projects.

Thanks for such wonderful feedback! I really appreciate the comments and reviews and I'm glad y'all are continuing to enjoy this!

* * *

**Part Fourteen:**

_**Why Do I Lie?**_

**Luscious Jackson**

Oliver steadied his bag. He threaded his way through tables and customers to the two people sitting in front of the window, sipping their coffees and laughing like old friends. Kyle looked happy talking to the girl at the table with him. It was the KΘ from the basketball game, the same girl who had taken Kyle to the Lover's Luau months ago. She was pretty. Athletic-looking, with her short blond hair and angular face. She had a friendly appearance to her.

They were clearly having the time of their life. Oliver wondered whether Kyle ever looked like that whenever they were together, joking around, having a laugh.

"Fish!"

Kyle had spotted him and was waving him over. Oliver grinned as he approached their table. There were two empty plates filled with crumbs and their drinks were in front of them. Kyle was lounging in his chair, his legs wide apart, his wrist lazily draped over the plastic lid of his pumpkin spice latte with nonfat milk and no whipped cream.

Oliver wanted to hit himself in the head -- he _hated_ that he knew that.

He also noticed another large envelope sitting to the side. It had Kyle's name written in large letters. But as Oliver drew up to them, Kyle quietly pulled it aside and placed it on the shelf just below the large window. This didn't escape Oliver's attention.

"Hey. Uh, what's up Ky-, er, Lewis."

Kyle laughed and flipped his hand dismissively. "'S okay, Oliver. Relax. She's a friend."

"Oh... okay."

The blond-haired girl grinned and rolled her eyes. "Kyle and I don't keep any secrets about each other. And I still haven't bolted."

"How could you run away from this," Kyle asked, his drawl gravelly. He smirked, which made him look impossible and cocky.

"I'm Leslie, by the way. Leslie Kaplan." She held out a hand for Oliver to take, which he did, his grin awkwardly stuck to his face.

"Oliver Fish. Nice to meet you." He took a moment to assess her. Leslie seemed pleasant, but not in a fake, cloying way. Perhaps it was cool for her to know about Kyle because she didn't appear to be the type to needlessly gossip. And she did have a friendly appearance to her. Must've been her eyes, which were round and bright blue.

But if she knew about Kyle, then did she know about....

"She _knows_ about you?"

Kyle kicked out the empty chair at the table and gestured for him to take a seat. "Slow your roll, Sherlock. Les and I went to high school together. She's the first person I ever told about me. And _only_ me." He barely emphasized "only", but Oliver noticed it. He kept his eyes on Kyle as he sat down, but his guard was up.

"I've been his sounding board for so many years." Leslie smiled at Kyle, her posture indicating that she was tired but amused. "He's a bit of a mess, but you'd know that by now, being his friend and all."

"Oliver's my roommate, Les."

"Oh! Well then, you'd know all about him." Leslie winked at him.

"He knows computers. Oliver's the resident Computer Whisperer of the house." Kyle took a long drink of his coffee. He smacked his lips and tapped his cup on the table. "Any tech problem you have? He'll fix it. He's brilliant."

Leslie giggled. "Sounds like it. Computers totally mystify me."

"Kyle's exaggerating. I'm really a big ol' nerd." He snorted and looked up at the ceiling. "Just the resident nerd of KAΔ. That's me!"

Kyle shook his head and waggled a finger at him. "Don't start with that 'nerd' shit." He spoke to Leslie. "We couldn't function without him." His voice was soft, low, and raspy. "I know I couldn't."

Although his body was situated directly between them, Oliver's eyes shifted over to Kyle. He was staring back at him, his gaze intense. Bold.

"Sounds like you're pretty good, Oliver." He barely registered Leslie's voice, but a smile managed to appear on his face. He never broke eye contact with Kyle.

"He's the best."

Damn him! Why was Kyle doing this now? Tempting fate, being so open, so... _so_ transparent around his friend. Even though he trusted Leslie, that didn't mean Oliver should. But any worries were tempered as Oliver kept watching Kyle, who looked like he was admiring him, like he was his. Oliver couldn't tear himself away. It felt too... _wrong_, being like this out in public.

But that didn't mean it didn't also feel really good. It was crazy to be wanted like this. It damn near took his breath away.

"I need to get out of here. My shift at the restaurant calls." Leslie stood up, which snapped Oliver out of his trance. Her eyes flew between both boys... gathering information about their relationship... assessing them... _judging_ them. She smiled and walked around to Kyle, giving him a kiss on his cheek. "I'll call you later. And you better be careful about that," she said, nodding at the large envelope. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"I can take care of myself, Les."

She sighed and lightly punched his shoulder. "That's what I'm afraid of." Leslie smiled at Oliver. "Good to meet you, finally. I'm sure I'll see you again." She waved her hand over her shoulder and let one more glance slip between them. Then she left, pulling her coat around her shoulders as she walked out of the coffee shop.

Oliver watched her walk away. "She seems nice."

"She's been more a sister to me than my real sister."

He scooted closer to Kyle. "She's really concerned about you."

"That's Les. Always looking out for whatever stupid shit I get myself into."

This was the perfect opening. "Does that have anything to do with what's in the envelope? Or the other envelopes that keep magically popping up?"

Kyle leaned over the table, tipped his cup all the way back and drained it to the last drop. He pulled in his lips, licking them before he replied. "It's part of my tutoring business." He beat his fingertip on the plastic lid.

"Okay. So can I see what's in it?"

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Why wouldn't you just do it?"

Kyle picked up his coffee cup and lightly tapped Oliver's hand. Even that was enough send tingles along his skin.

"I've got a special system worked out, Oliver. If I show you here, it might mess everything up."

This was getting ridiculous. Why the hell was Kyle being so sketchy about tutoring materials? Oliver knew he was hiding something. He could read Kyle like a textbook. After all, he had made it his own personal hobby since last year to observe everything there was about Kyle Lewis. To know his moods, his rhythms, his temper. He knew when something was up with him.

"Why don't you just tell me then?"

"Oliver, it's just tutoring materials. That's all. And I want to make sure they stay clean and organized so I keep them in an envelope."

"I don't understand why you can't just give me a small peek -- wait." Oliver's eyes grew big and he pointed an accusatory finger at Kyle, dropping his voice to a whisper so no one else would hear him. "What if that's not even paper? Kyle, are you into something bad? _Criminal_?" He leaned in closer and whispered, "Are you dealing drugs?"

Kyle stared at him, dumbstruck. "Drugs? You, Oliver Fish, think _I'm_ - into - _drugs_?" he asked very slowly.

"I see these envelopes popping up, and you won't give me a straight answer about them. What else am I supposed to think?"

"For starters, how about that I'm not _stupid_ enough, or criminal enough to do stupid and criminal things like dealing drugs? Wow! Now I know how you really feel."

"Why wouldn't I think you were doing something shady with the way you've been avoiding answering me?"

"Oh, I don't know." Kyle's entire body tensed with anger. "Because I know, deep down, that I'd never accuse you of doing anything like that." He snorted in derision. "You must think I'm a huge piece of shit."

"But you're acting suspicious and... and not telling me what you're working on. All I'm asking is that we go back to the room, and you can show me then."

Kyle stared back, his nostrils flaring. "Only if Griswold's not there when we get back."

* * *

When Kyle opened the door to their room, not only was Stan Griswold there, but he was sitting on his bed, looking distressed. The state of their third roommate was enough to push away any concerns about envelopes and Kyle's odd behavior from Oliver's mind.

Griswold greeted them with a feeble bob of his head. "Hey guys... uh, can I talk to you for a sec?"

Kyle glanced at Oliver, confused. It was unusual for Griswold to appear so troubled. Normally, he stomped around campus, fueled by beer, pizza and whatever random alcohol he could find around the dorms and the house. Studying was, at best, a chore for him; Kyle, as well as the other KAΔs, gave a little extra time to help him out so he'd at least stay academic eligible.

He didn't earn his house nickname "Bluto" for nothing.

"Sure," Kyle replied, letting Oliver inside the room before closing the door. "What's up? You look like someone died."

Griswold laughed ruefully. "Yeah. Almost."

"What do you mean?" Oliver asked.

"Okay, first, I gotta know -- do you two, like, have problems with gays?"

Oliver couldn't help it; he laughed nervously, although he felt he was on the verge of fleeing from his own body. Kyle tilted his head and stared at Griswold. His eyes almost popped out of his head. "Uh, no." It came out more as a question rather than a statement.

"Good, that's kind of what I thought. You seem pretty cool with, well, gay stuff, Lewis. Jus'... kin'a the way you tell the guys to fuck off if they say anythin's gay or some shit."

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. The inarticulate way Griswold had of phrasing things probably annoyed him, but other issues were pressing. Kyle ignored the insensitivity and cut to the chase. "What's going on?"

Griswold took a breath and twisted his faded, torn LU cap around on his head. He scratched where the brim had rubbed on his skin. "You two know my younger brother, right?"

"Yeah, we remember. He came up to visit you last year." Oliver sat down on Kyle's bed. He knew the kid, Jason. He had been quiet, shy around the other KAΔs. Some of the brothers had joked behind Griswold's back that he seemed... _artsy_. Not really masculine. Oliver knew what they meant, as Kyle and he had discussed Jason and the house's reactions to him during one of their private conversations.

"Jason and I -- we're close. I've sorta looked out for him when we was growin' up and everything. He used t' get teased on a lot. When I went back home, we were havin' our family dinner and, to make a long story really short, he came out t' us."

Kyle glanced over at Oliver. There was confusion, hesitation, and understanding all battling it out in his dark eyes, but he said nothing to expose any personal emotion. He sat down on the floor in front of Griswold, and let out a low, breathy whistle. For his part, Oliver remained seated. He stared at the two guys, surprised by this new information about Griswold's brother, positively shocked that this party animal was so cool about having a gay sibling.

He feared Kyle's response. Would he tell the truth? About himself? About _Oliver_?

"Damn."

Griswold nodded at Kyle. "Yeah, that's an understatement to say the least. Dad went apeshit, Mom went quiet, and both of them kicked him out of the house."

"Where is he now?" Kyle asked.

"I brought him back here with me. He's got friends he can stay with in Llanview -- his best friend lives in a small place a few blocks away from campus. I'm actually gonna take him out to dinner here in a couple of hours, but I've got a problem."

Kyle's brow fell. "What's that?"

Puffing out his cheeks, Griswold let out a monstrous groan. "I'm cool with the whole gay thing. Hell, _I_ knew he was gay before he told me. I've got a couple of gay friends at school, so I'm used to it. And I'm totally here for him because, let's face it, I'm the only family he has right now. But he's a wreck about what happened and I'm not sure if what I'm doing's enough for the little guy."

"You're doing fine." Kyle's reply was serious even though his voice remained soft. "You're there for him. That's what matters."

"That, um... you're so cool about your brother is pretty... er... c-cool too."

Kyle slowly turned around. "Profound words, _Fish_." Oliver frowned at his sarcasm.

"Great, but I don't really know what he's going through. You guys don't happen to know anyone who's gay too, who're close by? It'd be great if Jason had someone to talk to."

The silence that followed Griswold's question was thick. Heavy. It blanketed the room, and so stifling was the quiet that Oliver couldn't breathe. He focused everything in him on the back of Kyle's head, his eyes practically burning a hole through his dark hair. He couldn't see his friend's face, but he knew Kyle was watching Griswold, pondering what to say next... whether or not to tell Griswold.

A sinkhole was growing in the middle of the room. Oliver could see everything swirling, falling into its orbit, disappearing forever--

Kyle sighed and stood up. "Stan, I'll talk to him."

The floor shifted under Oliver's feet. The walls moved, the ceiling was collapsing. He was going to tell their other roommate. There was no stopping Kyle; the can opener was already twisting and turning around the edge, and the first couple of worms were inching out.

Griswold, however, looked surprised. "You an expert about this stuff?"

"Actually, I kind of am."

Griswold blinked. And then comprehension dawned on him, literally like a lightbulb flaring on, illuminating his characteristically gormless face with understanding. "Are ya sayin' you're gay?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. I'm gay too."

"Whoa!" Griswold looked over at Oliver. "Did you know?"

"Uh, y-yeah... I've known for a while now... and I'm... y'know, Kyle's cool. I'm cool, too. With it -- I mean _him_. Being gay, that is." He was shocked he was able to talk at all, as his tongue suddenly muddled into cotton and nothing in his body seemed to work right.

"I'm not out to the rest of the house." Kyle added. "My family, a few friends and Oliver know. I didn't want to make it a big deal. I still don't, so it'd be good if it stayed between the three of us." He looked back over his shoulder and gave Oliver a pointed stare.

Griswold popped off the bed, his hands raised. "Don't worry about it. It ain't a big deal for me. If you don't want anyone else to know, I won't say a word. But would you be cool with talkin' to my brother?"

"Absolutely." Oliver heard the smile in Kyle's voice. And Stan Griswold responded with his own smile, filled with gratitude.


End file.
